


A Dance with Daffodils: Allurance

by DrizzlyMango



Series: What in Carnation [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Define Happy, F/F, F/M, Female pronouns for Pidge, Gen, Guess I'm not as heartless as I thought, I'm sorry... but like not, Long, M/M, More angst, Multi, Some Fluff, Yeah I'm awful, cursing, even more angst, hanahaki, not sure if that makes it better or worse..., oh hey would you look at that., sort of a happy ending, there will be some with character deaths., this is a series. No idea when I'll get to writing all these., this is why i can't have nice things, your welcome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrizzlyMango/pseuds/DrizzlyMango
Summary: The fic where Lance is pinning for Allura, circa season 6. Where unrequited love is suffocating. Life is a song and dance is a death, they can each be morbidly beautiful.





	1. Love is a song

**Author's Note:**

> "a fictional (emphasis on fictional) disease, often used in fanfictions, where the victim regurgitates and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love. The illness can only be cured through surgical removal, however any existing romantic feelings are also removed with the infection." (urban dictionary)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things take an unlikely turn, Lance finds himself meeting a poetic end. Where being a Paladin comes with a whole slew of unforeseen issues. Trauma number one on that list is love. Unrequited love. 
> 
> Alternatively --> Pain. Angst...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hanahaki story:  
> I want to preface this by stating this talks of death and gets dark. Also that Hanahaki is a fictional disease. 
> 
> ***I just want you all to know how many times I've been called a heartless and soulless person in the drafting of this. At least 12 times for the first chapter alone by God - Complex. I'm sorry but not. That I’m an awful human being and I tried to point out a few things that’ll come back. But I want you all to know that the next two chapters after this absolutely destroyed me. This was me channeling my end of the semester angst and I’m not sorry.***
> 
> This isn't beta'd sorry for any mistakes.

 

Lance liked to think he’d lived a good life. One with no shortage of adventure. Getting stuck on the other side of a wormhole, decophebes away from earth was terrifying at first. The idea had grown on him the more he got to know his team. They because a second family to him, they gave him the strength to carry on, to be the best Paladin he could be. He used to be religious but now, now he wasn’t sure. What kind of sadistic bastard does this to people. Why would you ever subject someone to a death by suffocation due to flowers. Hanahaki Disease takes root in your lungs. It starts when the the victim develops feelings for a person and the subject of affection either does not return the feelings or the person doesn't think that they could. It’s rare in form, even across the universe. He’d like to think that there is a happy ending out there for him, for all the hoping and dreaming his younger self did. But this was his end, and he’d damn well make the best of it. It started weeks ago, well the pinning began even before then. I mean who could blame him? The princess was spectacular, if only he’d been a prince with something to promise to her. If only this. If only that. _If only she’d loved him back_.

  


It was just after a successful mission. The castle lights had been dimmed as the Paladins were heading to bed, well that is as soon as they ate. A lavish dinner in the kitchen prepared in celebration of the newest members of the coalition. It was a small planet of a plant-like people, kinds that were unique to nature. He should have known when they’d taken a specific liking to him over the others. Should have felt the roots digging in. Should have asked them but he didn’t. It was early yesterday that they’d finished their liberation and later that night that they’d gained another member of the coalition.

 

Pidge took to teasing Lance about having the affection of a bunch of plants. Had it been under different circumstances Lance would have laughed too, would have found the flock of knee high plant people crowding him adorable, but he couldn’t take his mind off the burning in his chest. He rubbed at his sternum to ease the discomfort but to no avail. It wasn’t until the Prince and Princess joined them that he knew that this was the beginning of the end.

 

Her hair was like liquid starlight, flowing in endless waves down her back. She was saying something, jewel eyes sparkling with amusement at something the others had said. The princess laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, earring twinkling in the dim lighting of the bridge during the night cycle. Her smile grew when a hand traced up her spine, she curled into the taller being, into Lotor. The pair shared a small secret smile, before adding to the conversation. Something in Lance’s heart ached, like something was digging in his chest. He drew in a breath, only to pause at a tickle in his throat. He grimaced around it, trying not to cough, not to draw attention to himself.

 

The Paladins had finally agreed to work with Lotor. He’d showed that he could be a trustworthy ally, and had been nothing but helpful to the paladins. Lance wanted to hate him. He really did, but he couldn’t. Lotor had done everything right. Had given them no reason to distrust him other than his own lineage. Maybe it was the added charm of the prince that smothered the voice inside him that said _this_ was wrong. Maybe it was him trying to look past his own insecurities and feelings. He’s always loved the princess, no matter how many times she’d shoot down his advances, he’d kept it up. The flirting, the lighthearted teasing.

 

But that all changed when Lotor entered the picture. Lance had lost his support system, he’d begun the scary descent into his mind, a place lurking with horrors and _what if’s_ of _if only’s_. He thought he’d worked through the jealousy. He really did, but times like this made something inside him ache. He felt like a seventh wheel and moments like this, where everyone was happy with or without his input, really made it feel true. The tickle in his throat grew more persistent. He tried one of those little half coughs, like when you swallow wrong, but it only felt like someone was dragging a feather up his throat. He coughed again only louder, punctuated with an attempt at clearing his throat. This time drawing the attention of his fellow paladins. He waved them off, excusing himself. He only got in the way. They obviously got on just fine without him. Lance rounded the corner into the hallway, far enough out of earshot before he doubled over coughing. His lungs burned, it felt like there were thorns wrapped around his lungs. Tear pricked the corners of his eyes, he felt something in his throat, rising with each shuddering cough. He felt something slip past his lips on the last cough, hungrily sucking down air. A coppery tang filled the air, the blue-eyed boy glanced at his hand, eyes widening in panic at what he found. A small blossom of gold, speckled with a hint of blood sat innocently in his palm. He shoved his way towards his room, stumbling over his feet in his haste. A petal and a few drops of blood tremble in his wake, decorating the hall.

 

He skips dinner that night, and breakfast in the morning. Constrained to his own devices he ransacked every inch of his brain for an explanation. _Why would he start coughing up daffodils? Why now?_ Lance drew in a breath, he’d hoped that the first flower was a trick of the eye, a figment of his overactive imagination. But when he’d coughed up more sunshine colored blossoms throughout the night he knew. He had a sinking feeling in his gut, only out pained by the thorns hugging his lungs.

 

Hunk came to retrieve him for lunch, obviously concerned that Lance had missed consecutive meals. Lance waves his friend off, not wanting him to worry. His fellow Paladins did worry however, the normally animated Lance sat in pensive silence. Dark bags hanging under his eyes, skin ashen, eyes glued to his food in front of him. It wasn’t until Lotor asked if he was feeling alright that he seemed to snap out of it. He plastered a smile on his face ignoring the tickling in the back of his throat. It was his problem, he’d deal with it on his own. The meal continued in much the same way, Lance smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, drinking copious amounts of liquid to cover the slight huff of a cough dragging its nails through his lungs. When the Paladins had split up for the day, Allura working with Lotor on the new ships, Hunk and Pidge on castle modifications, Shiro training and running diagnostics on their defenses, with Corans supervision. He found himself gloriously alone.

 

In their first few weeks in the castle, the Alteans had shown them a variety of different structures ranging from the music hall and ballroom, to the freaky upside down pool. A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. He strode towards the castle library, home to thousands of scripts, each dating back as far as the creation of the castle, some even before that. Many of the scripts had been transcribed onto one of the many little gadgets, making for querying topics easier, there was even a translate feature which Pidge had installed. Lance stepped up to the platform, the library cocooning around him. The panel lit up, selecting for topics of: flowers, lungs, growth, suffering, coughing, and love. The spines of the scripts glowed in a faint light, lines of code flickering through the air into the glowing orange panel. _“1,036 items found”_ greeted Lance. The boy sighed before heading towards the lounge area. It was likely he’d run into others but he could probably play it off as looking at games or something, worst case scenario switch the language over to Spanish. On the ship, there was a very limited knowledge of the language, usually learned from Lance’s yelling, unintelligent mumbling, or from the introductory level courses offered at the Garrison. So if he needed to hide his research then he could switch the language.  

 

He’d spent the majority of his day skimming through the new finds.only interrupted twice. Once by Pidge who’d done a double take at Lance slouched in the lounge tablet with texts perched in his lap. The second was Shiro walking through, massaging a headache from his temples. He didn’t notice Lance, hell he was barely aware of where he was. Post interruptions he’d returned to his skimming. Scoffing at some of the ridiculous theories. One story did catch his attention. Two best friends had grown up together. Had been through thick and thin together. One a beautiful princess, the other a member of the royal guard. They’d been raised, educated, and trained together. The were as close as you could get. However when they reached their adolescence, it was time for the Princess to marry, to carry on the bloodline of her kingdom and to unite with another powerful ally. She’d confessed she was in love with her prince charming. That they were destined soul mates. That the stars thought it such. It was a few days later that a strange sickness had befallen the guard. The male had hid it at first. Had managed to hide all evidence of the roses spilling past his lips. It started with a few petals, thorns digging into his lungs. As the sickness worsened it got harder to hide. It became apparent everytime the he saw the princes, worse so when he saw her with the prince, her groom to be. His sickness worsened. Now full roses and bits of stems fell past his lips, tearing pieces of his throat and lungs with each fuller bloom. He thought it was a lovely demise, to drown in flowers, to drown in love. She found him not even a month later, on his bed, petals and roses and thorns strewn about the bed, the sheets stained a rich ruby from his efforts. Lance slammed the book shut, at the slithering of another petal working its way up his throat.

 

He’s halfway through his third book, when he finds it. His heart leaps to his throat, his lungs burn in agony, and his stomach drops. _Hanahaki Disease_. His breath comes in short pants, broken only by his helpless coughing and gagging around the yellow blooms in his throat. His vision tunnels as he forces the flower out. He knows now what this is. He knows what to do to get rid of it. He knows how to help himself, but he can’t bring himself to consider it. The pain of having the feelings is infinitely better than that of forgetting his feelings of love. Lance spits the yellow flower into his hand, mouth turning at the tiny puddle of blood where the flower floats, petals taking to the dark liquid. He sighs through his nose, standing, fighting the dizziness fighting the motion. He adds his flower to the growing collection in his dresser.

 

Lance knew he was a handful, that he could be too much, could be annoying or obnoxious, he did it so he wouldn't be forgotten, so that he could have memories in the now. _If he died would they care? Would they miss a seventh wheel? Would they miss him? Would she miss him? What would happen to the coalition?_ He felt his chest squeeze, the thorns digging deeper, rooting themselves in his lungs. The tears stung as the slipped past. He hoarsely told them to stop, but the tears just continued to slide down his face. Lance clenched his jaw, chest burning as he felt the tell tale itch in his throats. He knew that his crush was stupid, that he should get over it. But he couldn’t, he cared too deeply. He’d stick it through, hang on as long as he could until the flowers smothered him.

 

He promised himself that night that he’d take care of this. That he’d ease their suffering, it’s cost him his life but in some regards they were better off without him. Sleep came in fitful bursts, punctuated with the occasional petal slipping past his lip. Petals were becoming more bearable to pass. There were even tell-tale symptoms that he could discern now. It was a few days go on while he thinks on his plan. Of the accounts he’s read while barely sleeping there were ways victims had said their goodbyes. He’d go out in true Lance fashion. Loud, bold, and dramatic. At least that was the plan. The petals came in larger clumps now, and it was getting harder to hide.

 

There were moments at team meals where he’d almost been found out. Too many perceptive eyes. The curious gazes of his team mates as he coughed into his palms, trying to catch any blood and petals that would try to escape. In some instances he’s try to swallow them back down. That only led to more petals later.

 

The Paladins made a stop at a friendly planet to restock supplies. It gave the Paladins time to go off and explore, sure they’d been put into pairs but he could work with that. It was Pidge and Hunk, and Shiro and Lance. Allura had stayed behind to work on the new ships lotor was designing. It was fairly easy to pass things off with Shiro. He hadn’t been the same since they found him. It made sense though he’d been recaptured by the Galra with a spotty memory. When Lance suggested shopping to calm themselves down the older smiled gratefully.

 

The Paladins earned allowances, if you could call them that. It’s more from doing odd jobs on the many planets they’d land on. From heavy lifting to surprise guests they were rewarded. Lance had saved his money, unlike Pidge who’d spend it on any variety of different junk they’d come across. Lance knew what he needed. He needed a thick journal, one with lots of pages, a pen or the space-equivalent, and a guitar. He knew how this had to go. What he had to do. He joined Shiro in looking at cosmetics. Shiro mentioned running out of eyeliner a while back and this looked like the closest thing to an alien-sephora that they’d seen so far. There was a wide array of cosmetics broken down by color and texture to suit the many aliens that pass through these parts.

 

With a loud “YOLO” Lance bought a lot of self care substances as well as bit of makeup to cover the remnants of his poor sleep schedule. Shiro pinned him with a quizzical look. The Disapproving Dad Look™. The pair passed Pidge and Hunk at one point, the younger had their arms full of circuit boards, wiring, and small tools. Hunk looked on despairingly sending desperate, pleading eyes to Shiro and Lance as they passed. Supervising Pidge on these trips was always awful.

 

The journal and pen had been an easier find. They’d been sold by the same vendor. There was a wide array of colors and skins to the journal. Lance leaned towards the royal blue and leathery. The pages were a muted pink. Oddly fitting considering he is the blue paladin, and his demise was brought about by his affections for the pink paladin. His chest tightened, he felt the petals slithering up. He ducked out of sight waiting for the fit to pass, Shiro watching from afar, lips pursed. He knew they were starting to realize something was wrong. Lance brushed it off, trying to think of how to tell them. When to tell them. So far it had yet to interfere with his piloting. He’d had to tell red after the incisstent worry nagging the bag of his mind pushed him towards insanity. Lions aside, Lance wanted to live in the moment as much as he could. Wanted to think of all the things he wanted to do in the time he had left.

 

Towards the end of the row of shops was the guitar-like instrument. It was made of a pseudo-wood, a rich turquoise. There was thin moonstone decorating the edges like lace. The artisan was taking requests and with Lance’s bartering skills he was able to get a monogram as well as a few decals on the guitar. He’d had to draw them of course, and not being much of an artist he was a bit disappointed with how they’d turned out. Shiro had helped refine the drawings, stating he used to help Keith when he’d draw back on earth. With a realistic looking shark, a paladin symbol, and waves made of aquamarine and opal the guitar was done. He’d wrote out the carving for the artisan. _“Cuando la fuerza no es física y la vida es una canción.”_ Something he’d come to realize was more and more accurate as the days wore on. There was strength beyond that of physical prowess. With tears heavy in his eyes, the pair made their way back to the rendezvous point. Pidge and Hunk returned not even a varga later, and Coran a little after that. Coran was their chauffeur for the day, as he needed to look for castle parts.  

 

With all the Paladins in the shuttle they return to the castle. Lance excuses himself to expel flowers in privacy, grimacing when he accidentally smears blood on the pod bay door He hastily rubbed it away eyes searching for any witnesses. He’d though the coast had been clear, but no. It had to be the mice. It was alway the mice. Those little snitches. They scurried about one other petals that had slipped through his fingers squeaking and chattering away. _Great_ , Lance thought. He promised them his share of food goo, space cheese and a bath if they didn’t tell Allura. They drive a hard bargain, and he could only hope that they’d hold up their end.

 

While everyone was asleep that night, Lance took to writing in his journal. His first entry was thought out, a bit verbose but so genuinely Lance that it made him smile. He’d leave this piece of him behind. The next couple of pages were mostly notes. He wrote an abbreviated version of that first Hanahaki story. How he thought it ironic that the Paladins were like knights and he was in love with a princess. He’s hope that when the others read this back they’d be able to ignore the tear stains adorning the pages. Ignore the tiny beads of blood that dried to the page as he acknowledged his feelings for Allura. The next nights went much the same way, jotting down his findings, his brainstorm for how to tell them and how to go about handling his inevitable end. _Daffodils: Narcissus Pseudonarcissus. They are a yellow trumpet shaped flower, a spring flower. The crystals can irritate the skin. Once upon a time ago they were used in healing meant to heal coughs, colds, and asthma. They can cause vomiting._ Lance hoped the others saw the irony of this when they saw it. Can help heal coughs and they’re making him cough blood. He’d even found information on the symbolism of his flower. They represent unrequited love. That there is only one for him. That the sun is always shining when I’m with you. That last bit caused him to think of “You Are My Sunshine”. That cursed song. That had been all sunny smiles and childhood laughs then some sick bastard slowed it down and paired it with the most heartbreaking short ever and ruined the song for the rest of time. Like seriously who writes a story to that song where a brother is trying to place the severed head of his younger brother back onto his shoulders. Lance grits his teeth against the memory, the tears welling in his eyes. He had an idea and he knew the others would hate it, but he you only die once. Letting out a dry laugh he added a little light bulb next to his note about “You Are My Sunshine”. He’d also learned much to his horror that they come in different sizes and so far he’d only been regurgitating the miniature ones. The larger ones could be as large as five inches. He jotted that down, with a crudely drawn frowny face.

He wrote about why he doesn’t want the surgery the only known remedy for unrequited feelings. He’d rather die than lose the feelings he has. It’s better to feel something as opposed to nothing right. He sighed tucking the journal away. There were a lot of ends to tie up. He wanted to list things he wanted to do before his untimely passing. He wanted to give everyone that chance, a chance to say goodbye. It prompts him to a late night session to the bridge, to place an unlikely call, but to someone he was close with. Someone who wouldn’t judge him. Without a thought he presses call.

 

It’s not until the fifth tone that the person on the other end picks up. Keith, hair a mess, circles under his eyes, skin looking paler against the rich indigos of his Blade suit answers. A rough “Hey” such a simple gesture brings tears to Lance's eyes. This goodbye would hurt.

 

“Uh hey Keith, do you- are you- can you talk for a little bit.” Keith pauses violet eyes flashing, considering. His gaze flits over Lance catching at the bloodied corners of his lips, the circles under his eyes.

“Sure I can talk for a bit.”

 

“That’s uh- good. It’s good to see you.” Keith hums chin resting on his knees from where he's sitting.

 

“How are you, you look tired? Is the mission going well?”

 

“It’s going” is all Keith says eyes distant. “We’ve made a lot of progress tracking this new line of quintessence. It’s just taking a lot longer than we thought.”

 

“A mission for quintessence?”

 

“Yeah, its a line of unique quintessence, it's the purest form. Some of the research suggests it might be the purest form of life quintessence.” Lance’s breath catches. Life and death. Death and life. He wanted this conversation to be meaningful. To hold some substance before he tore his heart out. He made small talk with Keith for the better part of a Varga. Topics discussed ranged from Hunks cooking, to the impressions the mice were now doing. When Keith asked how he was it really threw him off. The tears burning.

 

“I’m-” he pauses breathing, then coughing against the bud in his throat. They’d begun to grow in size, its been almost a week now so that makes sense. There was no research about how long one could technically live with Hanahaki. He knows Keith sees it. Sees the tremors and the blood. Sees the flash of yellow before Lance tucks it out of view. His gaze is penetrating, Lance doesn’t reach up to wipe the blood from his mouth.

 

“I’m not okay. Keith, if you only had like… a month or two to live what would you do?” Keith froze. Not breathing not seeing. Not anything above the roar of the words in his mind.

 

“I really don’t know what I’d do.” Lance confesses, tears running down his face. “I’d want to say goodbye to friends and family. I’d want to do things I haven’t yet or enjoy for a last time. But thats hard in space. There is no Varadero Beach. No fresh garlic knots to eat. I’d want to make sure that people weren’t sad. That people knew who I truly was, to know that I’ll love everyone no matter what and that it was inevitable, that-” Lance breaks off with a sob, once again gagging around a bud.

 

“Lance-” Keith says, eyes wide and wet with tears of his own, but the video fizzles out. It was a sign. Hopefully Keith wouldn’t tell anyone. Not yet at least. Hopefully Lance would get to see him again. One last time. Despite the rivalry bullshit he always spouted he’d come to love Keith. He was always there for him, was like another best friend. Someone who would push him to be better. To do more. He decides to call it a night, taking the daffodils with him, careful not to leave a bloody trail.

 

It’s the next night, after a particularly bad workout that had him coughing more than usual that he works more on his brainstorm. That he begins phase two. He takes the vlogging camera he’d snatched from the equipment room and grabbed his guitar, all with a tired smile. Time to razzle dazzle.

 

After his success with the vlog, where he tried to be as honest as he could bear, as happy and at ease as he could in his final weeks, he inquired about Alfor’s AI. How it was constructed. How it worked. What it took to make it work. The books in the library had been helpful, Coran even moreso. Lance played off the questions as curiosity, and feigned indifference but that was really only phase three of his five step plan. Step four was made of two parts. Listing the things he wanted to do in his final days, and working on telling the lions, as he wanted their support and their promise to protect the Paladins. He was really good at the bucket list. Though seeing Varadero Beach and garlic knots caused the vines to tighten. He slept on that list, thinking of anything he’d only see in his dreams. He dreamt of salty air, and the faint echo of waves crashing on sand, of elated laughter, of home.

 

In the solitude of his room Lance hatched a plan, the final stages of step four. How to contact the lions. A plan that would have a happy ending, for everyone but him, but maybe he could make his end happy. Death by flowers was tragically beautiful. Against his better judgement, he slipped down to the Lion’s hanngar, to talk with Blue and Red. They’d understand him. The closer he got the louder the voices got. Hunk and Pidge. They were laughing grids forgotten in front of them. The pair was repeating some alien word in different tones, the syllables tying their tongues in knots. Lance smiled softly heading towards Blue first. But when he arrived what he saw stopped him in his tracks. Allura in Lotor’s arms, faces mere centimeters apart. He the vines twisting tighter in his chest. Felt the buds crowding his throat. Felt the burn and the ache, and the longing. The not good enough. His eyes burned. He pushed off the wall from where he’d sagged against it. Not caring at the racket he made. He ran and ran, savoring the burn, savoring the ability to drown everything out. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t care. He kept running. One foot after the other, the footfalls echoing across the castle, left in the wake with his tears.

 

It was Hunk who’d found him, recognizing the panicked chorus from all their years as friends. He knew that something was off, that his best friend was out of it, was withdrawing. Was running away, now quite literally. He found him in the hallway between their rooms and the kitchen, on his hands and knees, coughing and gagging, a deep wet rattling. Hunk knelt down beside his friends. Gently placing a hand on Lance’s back, rubbing soothing circles while Lance shivered. When Hunk heard the wet _plip plip plop_ , of something hitting the metal he started. Daffodils lay on the ground below Lance, his eyes were clouded and his breath was ragged. Hunk felt his heart thundering against his ribs, beating a thunderous beat, he wondered if it was loud enough for Lance to hear as the boy turned to him. Fear in his eyes. But Hunk knew. He knew who caused his friend to suffer. He knew what was happening. He’d heard legends back on earth, he’d never thought them true but there’s a macabre assortment of daffodils in a puddle of blood under Lance. There was no other explanation. The torn expression his best friend was wearing only confirmed it. He opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, but no sound came out. The boys stared at each other, frozen in the bright white of the hall. The lag lasted a moment before they were scrambling to hide the aftermath, lance coughing lightly, face shining with exertion. He knew Hunk knew, knew he owed his best friend an explanation.

 

The pair were interrupted by one of the many Castle alerts going off. Not quite a distress beacon, more like an incoming attack. It must have been a faction working against Lotor. The pair haphazardly cleaned the mess in the hall up, stuffing the daffodils into the drawer with the others on their way. Hunk felt his stomach turn at the number of blooms, Lance wouldn’t look at him as he swayed, reaching for his armor, shrugging into it on the walk. Hunk slammed the drawer closed, grabbing his own Paladin gear sprinting to catch up to Lance. Said boy was leaning heavily against the wall for support, blinking rapidly. They couldn't form voltron. Especially not with Lance like this. As the neared the bridge Lance seemed to pick himself up more, still struggling against the vines climbing his chest.

 

The bridge was full the other Paladins standing, awaiting orders. Shiro near the center console, Coran and Pidge leaning over the holographic grid monitoring the castle’s defenses. Lotor stood behind Allura, resting his chin on her shoulder as the pair watched as more red dots swarmed across the screen. Hunk felt the moment Lance saw them. Felt the tremors in his body, felt the gasps. He thought that hanahaki was a slow death. It had only been what? Days? Maybe a week. Hunk slung Lances arm over his shoulder, leaning the boy’s weight across him, especially as he turned to cough, hiding in the shoulder of Hunk’s armor. Hunk heard the gush that accompanied the wave, heard Lance gagging. Thankful that the others were talking, were distracted, though a few curious gazes lingered on them. He did his best to hid the aftermath from the team, standing in front of Lance as the boy clung to him, head pressed between his shoulder blades. This was going to be a nightmare. A whole rebel fleet under Sendak pushed on them. Lotor and Allura were calling out directions, Shiro ordering the teams to their lions. Lance pushed himself out of Hunks grasp, staggering to his chair, to his lion. There was a smudge of crimson in the corners of his mouth, a small blur on his chin, eyes dull as he eased towards his lions. Coran shot Hunk a questioning gaze to which the other froze and shook his head. This was going to be a nightmare. A never ending one.

 

The lions shot out of their spires, a technicolor prism in the void of space. There was a flurry of directions which Lance could barely hear over this muffled coughing. It was getting worse. He’d read that under certain circumstances that the disease could take a turn and smother a victim in a matter of weeks, though some coexist with their disease for years. He was on the fast track, and it was only the beginning of his end. It would be worse and worse with each bout, more painful, more gore. He managed to keep up, fired at the purple ships, followed directions, didn’t stray too far. Hunk appeared on a screen to his right, a calming presence to make sure that he was alright. Lance assured him he was even though black was spotting his vision. A particularly hard hit from an incoming ship had him spiraling into a ring of fire, to a ring of burning Galra ships, the world spun to fast. Too loud. He heard Lotor call out to Allura. Heard her breathless answer heard the moment his lungs seized. One minute he was staring at the ship in front of him, the next he was looking into the black void of space. He felt it, the full bloom rise in his throat, felt the vine curling up the column of his throat. Felt every thorn, and ridge of the vines. Felt it as his body convulsed, as a large red stained daffodil dropped into his lap, as the blood left in a steady trickle from his mouth. He’d let the team down. He tried to think more but his body was convulsing again. He whined against the thickness in his throat, he felt the petals shift, felt the stalks crawl. Felt it all. Each movement was too much all he could do was cough them out. There was a blur of color against the dark, yelling too, he couldn’t hear it. He felt so heavy. Strong hands under his knees and across his shoulders was the the last thing he felt before oblivion took over.

 

He awoke to the hiss and chill of a crypod. He staggered into the eager arms of Coran and Hunk. They looked relieved, but not happy. He glanced around the room, no one looked happy. Allura stood, wringing her hands in front of her, Lotor thankfully nowhere to be seen. Pidge, splotchy red face and tear stained cheeks, glasses pushed up, resting atop their head. Shiro, mouth in a tight line, hands squeezed into fists by his sides. He took the blanket they offered him, and sat. Hunk sat behind him, tucking Lance under his arm. His shield if anything were to go bad. They stood around Lance, leaving enough of a gap to include the bloody full daffodil he’d coughed up during the fight. It had the audacity to sit innocently on the metal tray, mocking him. It was Coran who spoke first.

 

“You gave us quite a scare there Blue. One moment you were fine, then the next you were thrashing like a wild khunbil! We all know something is wrong, but the Cryopod couldn’t heal it. We aren’t sure what to make of it. I’ve never seen anything like it.” The others nodded in agreement. Lance only blinked. He didn’t have anything to say. Nothing he wanted to share. Hunk opened his mouth, then thought better of it waiting for his friend to agree.

 

“Lonce,” Allura started, and he felt it. Felt the vines tightening. He winced, eyes squeezing shut and curling over his knees. He felt the tell tale tingling of the bloom moving, falling from the vines, to fall past his lips. He gagged, and heaved, blinking back tears. The first few coughs yielded a spray of blood, the copper tang tinging the air. The following ones had produced a few buds, petals, and another full bloom. With blood dripping down his chin, and the fruit of his labor in the puddle, it was clear that he was indeed not alright.

 

Everything that happened next proceeded in such a flurry that he can barely remember it. Pidge gagged turning to retain the contents of her stomach. Allura gasped, eyes wide, trembling hands covering her mouth. Coran leaning to help Lance sit back and also to check his mouth to make sure there weren’t any daffodils still stuck in his throat. Shiro stood frozen, eyes glued to the daffodils in front of him. Hunk tears streaking his face, rubbing soothing circles into Lances back, whispering calming words into his hair.

 

“Oh, Lance,” Shiro tried, voice strained, eyes still stuck on the blood splattered assortment of flowers in front of him. “You have it don’t you. That’s why when we were shopping you slip off.” Eyes widening as realization hit. Lance didn’t trust speaking yet, and nodded. Somehow it made sense that Shiro would be the one to recognize it.

 

“Have what?” Coran and Allura chorused. Lance held the flowers at bay this time. Focusing on breathing.

 

“Hanahaki Disease,” Shiro said morosely. Pidge gasped this time, oblivious to the Altean’s confusion.

 

“I thought that it was a made up Disease. I never would have- Oh Lance, who?” _Who. Who indeed_. He forced his eyes to stay locked on the flowers in front of him, to not let them stray towards the princess. Lance grimaced. Biting his lip. He wouldn’t he didn’t want them to feel guilty.

 

“I’m not sure I follow. What’s a Ha-na-hack-ee?” Coran sounded out, Allura nodding along.

 

“It’s a very, very rare condition where the victim coughs up flowers because they take root and grow in a person's lungs. It’s a disease borne out of unrequited love. It can either be unrequited, or thought by the victim to be unrequited. The person slowly begins to suffocate because of the flowers in their lungs. The flowers are different for each person. There's some symbolism for it.” Shiro supplied, finally breaking eye contact with the flowers to look at Lance. The boy had tucked his face into Hunk’s side, small tremors working their way through his body. Each worse than the last. He was fighting against flowers, that much was obvious now.

 

“Oh my, flowers in the lungs because of love.” Allura’s expression tightened, hands shaking further.

 

“Sounds quite painful.”

 

“ ‘t is.” Lance gasped, coughing a few stray petals onto the floor in front of him.

 

“Is there- is there a cure?” Allura asked. Lance’s eyes flew open. And he shifted, weight slipping from Hunk as the momentum carried him forward.  The humans expressions looked distant. Pidge glancing to Shiro, then Hunk, then to Lance. Tears falling from her eyes. Shaking her head as Lance pleaded with her. Shiro looked on, torn eyes glassy. Coran glanced between them all, unused to seeing such gestures. There was something they all knew, something they were trying to decide whether or not to tell them.

 

“Shiro? Please, if there's anyway we can help Lance. If there's any cure-”

 

“I- I can’t. Lance-”

“No!” It was hoarse, but conveyed too many emotions. Tears falling anew. Pidge scrambled forward, dropping to her knees and pulling Lance into a hug. The pair crying, Hunk’s mouth a firm line, biting back his own tears hugging Lance as well. Shiro paused, hand over his mouth, silver lining his eyes. He too joined the hug.

 

Allura and Coran looked on distraught and torn.

 

“No, I don’t think there is.” Shiro said softly looking at Lance, who’s gaze shown with appreciation. If this was Lance’s choice he wouldn’t share the alternative. They had to respect Lance’s wishes.

 

“So, it’s- It’s fatal?” Allura pushed. Everyone went rigid, Pidge pressing further into Lance’s embrace. He nodded, with a sad smile.

 

“How long?” It was a mixture of voices. Coran said he’d have to run tests, but he could give them an estimate by dinner. Lance stayed with him in the med bay the other all heading towards to lounge. It was like a rip had been torn through the team. Lance was their heart, their spirit and having to watch it go out would be catastrophic. They had to be strong. That's what Allura told herself. She let the humans be, taking to her room for some time to process what she’d just been told. She stumbles into the room, knocking an ancient crystal to the floor, the azurite shards glinting in the dim light. Sobs wracked her body, thundering in time with the beat of her racing heart, the sound drowning out her surroundings, only a few words coming through. _“Who?” “How long?”_  


Back in the lounge the others sat curled around one another, Pidge sandwiched between Shiro and Hunk, Hunk leaning on Shiro’s shoulder, their legs intertwining. This would be tough on all of them. Hunk and Lance are best friends. It’ll be like losing a family member. Shiro gasped when he realized it. It was losing a family member. Lance was the one that brought them together as a family, made them feel like they were a part of it. The three paladins sat like that for minutes or maybe hours, before Hunk spoke up, voice rough with emotion. “Who’s going to tell Keith?”

 

Whatever semblance of peace had temporarily befallen them shattered into a thousand different pieces. Keith. Keith was on a mission with the Blade of Marmora at the moment. It was up to them to tell him. He deserved to know. He should be able to say goodbye.

 

Dinner was served in tense silence. Broken by guttural coughs by Lance, now armed with a bowl to catch the stray daffodils, and the jerky little sobs that escaped the others. Coran returned with a holographic rendering of the vines in his lungs as well as a timeline. The crying burst forth at the news, though Lance took it in stride, comforting his family.

 

_Three weeks._

  



	2. The Final Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the beach with a side of vines

In the hours following the reveal, Lance took to comforting his team. He knew they weren’t taking it well. He knew that this would destroy them. He’d been making progress in his planning, even going as far as accidentally electrocuting himself at one point. When the group was done crying, only a stray sniffle to be heard he mentioned his list. The list of things he wanted to do before he eventually passed. He even gave them a ridiculous set of rules to follow “in honor of his death”. He’d wrote it as a joke, but after the reveal he figured that they’d need more cheering up. 

 

Some of the more ridiculous ones were speaking to Pidge in Pig Latin if she started using any nonsensical alien words or if left shoe was untied, but any other language than English or Altean if her glasses were askew. Speaking to Allura and Coran in Gibberish if they went off using too much alien jargon. If they were in the kitchen there were as many Gordon Ramsay references as possible. Shiro would have to flex and hold various work out poses at random intervals as was predetermined by some rigged algorithm Lance had tricked Hunk into making. The yellow Paladin would have sing random strings of sentences if he did something silly in the Kitchen. It kept everyone on their toes and no one had realized how much it had helped ease the sting. 

 

With more fun to be had on board, Lance in his sick and twisted mind decided to introduce death jokes. It was rather soon sure but it was on one of the outings to an alien trading post that he’d first used it.  _ YODO _ . He jumped from their craft as they were heading to the performance, not minding the frays in his attire. He’d tucked himself into a role laughing the entire time, ignoring the tell-tale tickle in his throat.    
  
Shiros hand gripped the edge of the craft so hard he could see hairline cracks forming, the metal denting under the pressure. Shiro’s face was pale as death from his position. The creature driving them slowed to as stop as the others came rushing out of the craft towards him. Hunk held the hysterical Lance in his arms, Pidge talking hold of one of his hands. Space Dad™ had sat behind him, pulling Lance’s weight into his lap as he rocked him gently with Hunk. Lance was laughing so hard he was crying. 

 

“Oh my God, your faces!” He laughed, sound bright against the glittering brown of the planets surface. That set Shiro off. He snapped, mouth pressed into a firm line, color bordering on the rich red of the setting sun. Space Dad™,” Lance how could you be so reckless!” Lance only laughed harder wheezing at the reaction from his friends. Shiro groaned, shaking his head and stomped off into the horizon to clear his head. 

 

Coran, bless his heart, tried to rationalize on Shiro’s behalf. “Lance you could have been seriously injured. When we get back to the castle we’re going to have to do a scan to make sure everything is okay.” 

  
“Yeah! What the heck man, you gave me a heart attack!” Lance’s laughing calmed as he struggled to catch his breath. 

 

“Oh man, YODO, also no one else is allowed to die this is my time.” He laughed, though tried to ignore the twinge of hurt on his friends faces. Allura’s face scrunched,

 

“YODO?”   
  


“Yeah, you know, You only die once.” Lance replied, met with a collective groan from his fellow paladins. 

 

“Nope, no. I’m done. I don’t want to be responsible for this.” Shiro who’d returned in time to hear the first “YODO”, declared jostling Lance out of his lap. 

 

“Next it’ll be bracelets with What Would Lance Do.” Pidge muttered. 

 

“THATS AWESOME! YES! PLEASE, PIDGEY! Pidgeon my friend, we’re  _ so _ doing that.” Lance exclaimed finding his breath again. Shiro continued walking towards the craft wondering why he was dubbed the responsible one. 

  
  


After the fiasco on the planet Lance’s silly rules and his death puns were starting to wear on everyone’s nerves. He knew it would happen eventually. But while he’d slept in that morning, thankfully no Galra fighting to deal with like the past few days, the team had taken to calling a meeting. When Lance slumped into his usual seat at the table, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual, the team cringed. He’d been doing good but the continual stress of battling Galra was starting to show. He’d been coughing more and more, and now there were bits of flesh that came up with the flowers. They were beginning to change in size. The stalks were making their presence more known. Lance has been wheezing and coughing more often. 

 

Lance tried to nix the nickname “Wheezie” as soon as it slipped past Pidge’s lips, but agreed to it when Hunk decided to be the best bro and say he’d be the Zak to Lance’s Wheezie. Shiro laughed so hard he cried getting the reference. When the obviously confused Alteans asked what any of that meant Shiro merely replied. “Dragon Tales was a great show, and vastly underappreciated”. 

 

“I see, well who wants to hear the good news?”   
  
“What good news.” Lance asked skeptically. 

 

“We should be planetside within the next two Varga. I hope you’ve got your trunks ready!” 

 

“Trunks?”   
  


“We’re going to a beach, Lance.” Shiro said with a warm smile. 

 

“Surprise!” Allura and Pidge yelled. 

 

“I know it’s not Varadero, but-” Hunk didn’t get to finish before he had his arms full of a sobbing Lance. 

 

“Thank you, so much guys. You don’t realize how much this means to me. I-” He stops to breathe fighting against the stalks and buds. 

 

“Just, thank you so much!” He yells, rushing to hug everyone, trying to play off the burning cough as he hugs Allura. 

  
  


He knew he’d looked better, but he didn’t care. A beach. It even had sand. The others had said it was the closest composition to the beaches back home the only difference was that the water was a vibrant magenta, and as the waves broke an elegant crismon. It looked like a beach Keith would like. It was like being stabbed when he realized Keith was missing out on this. After his botched warning he knew the teen would be worried sick. He took to making a special vlog after that. Vowing that he bring up contacting Keith to the others. He wanted the raven haired boy to be there when he passed. 

 

Lance glanced down at himself, taking in his appearance. You couldn’t see the roots and vines growing about his lungs but he could feel the phantom movements under his skin. He rubbed his sternum, taking the entire scene in. There were two stars visible from the system and about four moons. They each took a slightly different hue in the sky adding to the exotic location. 

 

He felt the rich indigo sand between his toes, marveling at the similarities to earth’s beaches. He was determined to enjoy the day to the fullest. Hunk had managed make enough food to last a movement. With the help of the team they found an alternative to skim boards, and surfboards.

 

Lance was determined to show the Alteans how to enjoy the beach. They held a sandcastle building contest, and Coran critique earth’s primitive castle structures. “Why is there a trench around the castle? It keeps people out? Well that's unfortunate. Why is it so square? Are all earth buildings square?” Pidge only groaned into the sand, the fine pebbles littering her hair. 

 

Hunk had somehow managed to find the unforgiving void of space’s version of skimboards. It wasn’t like the one he’d had at home, with the aqua colored resin surrounding the onyx shark logo with scattered wood throughout. The one in his hands was an alarming shade of green, it glowed closer to neon yellow when he held it up to the sun. Shrugging his shoulders he was determined to show everyone how it was done. 

 

Lance cast his gaze towards the cresting waves,  _ watching _ . Waiting. He knows deep down he can’t push his body as he once had, so he settled for a shorter distance but deeper depth, skimming along the curling waves reveling in the applause and stunned gasps of his friends. Chest heaving from the sudden exertion, Lance smiled wide, eyes squinting. He was happy and not worried about anything. From there the team took turns. Hunk went second, taking the board a decent distance feigning he was rusty. Pidge and Coran had the most spectacular wipeouts. Pidge missed the board and her momentum tipped her face first into the sand. Coran caught the edge of the board, feet flying over his head as he flipped onto his back. He’d landed on a rock, knocking the breath out of himself, but laughing it off determined to master the concept. Shiro was a natural, riding the board out and then flipping it up and into the cresting waves. He laughed it off, blush dusting his cheeks. He began showing the Princess how to do it. She was a natural at everything and looked very in her element at the beach, she stumbled but never fell, regardless she made every movement look graceful and elegant. Lance had had to duck away to rid himself of the flowers pushing up his throat, but he held fast a bit longer to really live in the moment. His condition be damned. 

 

Pidge suggested that they play chicken, Lance never one to refuse a challenge decided to resurrect the “Dream Team” so it was a battle of the legs versus the head and arm. Allura and Coran spent the better part of the battle comparing the towering Paladins to mystery space creatures. 

  
  


The Paladins had to return to the castle that night since the temperature dropped to just about 0 Kelvin in a matter of Varga after the sun goes down. It had reached mildly cold by the time they reached the castle, Pidge and Hunk watching the quickly declining temperature with rapt attention. I mean, it's not everyday you can watch naturally occuring record low temperatures. Lance excused himself to work on his plan, he wanted to work on this when he was having a great time. He wanted there to be a positive vibe to his vlog. His mood slipped slightly when he began writing his goodbyes. He had time of course, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He’d made a lot of progress having only a couple left to complete before Pidge came in to get him, pausing on the threshold frozen at the puffy red rimmed mess of Lance’s eyes. 

 

After the success at the beach the team settled in for a fun night in. What that entailed Lance didn’t know. He knew he was exhausted and that things were beginning to get harder. He’d finished the vlogs, or most of them. He promised himself he’d continue now that he had a computer to edit them together on. 

 

While Lance loved Monsters and Mana he really didn’t want to spend the night doing that. It was a surprise when the others ushered him to the couch, placing him in the middle between Hunk and Shiro, thankfully a safe distance from the princess. He’d found that he was so busy preparing for his end he hadn’t been thinking much on his feelings for her. He soon remembered what a blessing that was as he hacked up a flower and part of a stem across Shiro’s lap. The older had smiled and assured him it was fine and he didn’t mind as long as Lance was okay. Which only made Lance feel worse. Shiro shifted and pulled Lance against his side, resting his head on top of his. Lance sighed at the contact grateful for the shift. It gave Hunk space to lean into Lance’s otherside, effectively sandwiching him. When he say the title of the video he couldn’t help the surprised gasp. 

 

“How?” Lance asked in awe. 

 

“Don’t doubt me I’m a genius.” Pidge stated. 

 

“So, we were digging through the black hole that is the deep mystery of the world wide web which we still somehow managed to get out here. And by get I mean I had these downloaded on my computer before we left the Garrison.” The earthlings laughed, while Coran and Allura squinted at the title. 

 

“ _ Vines I quote everyday _ ” Coran asked confused. 

  
“I wanted to expose the Alteans to earth culture. Memes are the best way to start.” Lance laughed at the mental image of Pidge educating aliens about memes. 

 

“It might help them better understand what we yell every now and again.” 

  
“Oh so like when Lance will yell something and you respond. Like weird phrases you say. What was that one, ‘So no head’?” The roaring laughter of the Paladins perplexes the Alteans even more. “What about the one he does that Keith plays along with?”   
  
“What do you have?” Lance yells.

 

“A knife!” Pidge yells. 

 

“No!” Lance replies almost immediately, pretending to make chase after Pidge. 

 

“Yes that one,” Coran replies confused. 

  
“Wait, before we watch it I want to know everyone’s favorite Vine. Lance go!” Pidge points at him. He closes his eyes thinking for a moment. 

 

“Gee Pidgey that's tough I love so many but the one that always gets me is the guy on the tree branch imitating Rafiki from the Lion king, and then falling.” 

 

“Hunk?”

 

“It’s gotta be the “Can I get a waffle”. I feel that on a spiritual level.” 

 

“Shiro?”

 

“The waka waka one,” Lance’s mouth drops to the floor.

 

“Really?”

 

“Oh my god this is great. What about Keith?” 

 

Lance replies, “There is only one thing worse than a rapist. Moves paper. Boom a child. No” Laughing at himself. Hunk breaks off laughing saying, “Honestly I would have said the knife one.” 

 

Pidge laughs thinking she has it, “No it’s definitely the ‘Don’t fuck with me I have the power of god and anime on my side, aghhhhhh!’” Shiro’s laughing so hard he’s crying. 

 

“Wow. No that’s Matt’s favorite, right next to the ‘Adam’ one,” Shiro's voice tapers off for a moment, eyes glassy before recovering.   
  
“Keith’s favorite is actually, ‘Welcome to bible study…’”   
  


“No way.” 

 

“He grew up in Texas it makes sense. His second favorite is that one where it’s like, ‘Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low. It's the one with the horse’ ” Shiro got the drawl down and everything. Pidge was gasping for breaths between laughs. 

 

“He does the accent better. Actually, he had a Southern accent when I first met him.” Shiro thinks aloud. 

 

“No way.” Hunk breathes. 

 

“I’d like to learn more about these vines you speak of.” Allura insisted. 

 

So there they sat, four humans, and two aliens crowded on a couch listening to vine after vine. The Paladins even got up to reenact some replaying a few at the request of the others. 

 

_ “I said whoever threw that paper your moms a hoe.  _

_ Why don't you just relax we’ll turn on the radio would you like ammm or fmmmmmm.  _

_ That was legitness.  _

_ But you've got it all believe it. When you fall get up “hey hey”. Tsamina mina “I’m gay”  Tsamina mina zangalewa “I have crippling depression” Tsamina mina “hey hey” waka waka “I’m gay” Tsamina mina zangalewa “what a lovely day”.   _

_ It’s wednesday my dudes uhg-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  _

_ Welcome to bible study we’re all of Jesus. Kum ba yah my lord. _

_ Please let this be a normal field trip, with the frizz no way.  _

_ I thought you were bae turns out you're just fam. _

_ How do you know what's good for me that's my opinion.  _

_ Happy crismas. Its crismyth. Merry crisis. Merry chrysler.  _

_ Get yo fuckin dog bitch. It don’t bite. Yes it do.  _

_ Well when life gives ya lemons.  _

_ So why is this one Kansas and this one is not Ar-Kansas. What do you mean it Arkansas. America explain! Explain!”  _

  
The best reenactment was arguably the circle of life vine in which Pidge had found an old video from one of their misadventures at the Garrison where Lance dared the pair that they wouldn’t do it. But they got up in the middle of the dining hall, Hunk holding Pidge under their arms and as high in the air as he could, singing at the top of his lungs. They got detention but it was so worth it. 

 

They ended the night after reminiscing via earth pop-culture and their crazy stories. The Altean’s didn’t quite understand what they’d watched or why Sherk was a meme, or a Spongebob was, but they were trying. It was funnier to watch them butcher the memes they were imitating, and honestly Lance couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night. 

 

For the first time in weeks he got a decent night's sleep, curled up in the arms of his friends, of the woman he loved. He shouldn’t have been surprised at waking up at some ungodly hour to hurl up flowers but it was worth it. 

 

It would be a while before the others woke up and he decided that he would finish his preparations while he still had the energy to do so. Maybe it made him selfish to not tell them in advance, but he didn’t want to let them down if it didn’t go according to plan. He finished one of the last pieces of his plan. He fired it up and everything thankful that it worked. That left two more things. The final vlog and the written goodbyes. He set to working on the goodbyes, crying for each one as he repeatedly opened old wounds and ripped a few new ones. He had time still. Only a little but he had time.  

 

With about two weeks left the team sat down to call Keith. It wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing, they’d put a lot of thought into breaking the news to him. Lance was the one that delayed the process, pushing it farther back, little by little. It was owed to him. He deserved to know, to have a chance to say goodbye since it seemed that Lance was set on not doing the surgery. The Blade of Marmora was rigorous and leeched sleep away from its members under the rouse of a challenging mission, but it was the worst they’d ever seen Keith look. His skin sallow, eyes sunken with deep purple smudges beneath them, hair a static halo around his head. Pidge bit back her comment on his appearance, and watched as Hunk struggled to do the same. Lance was running a few tests with Coran so he wasn’t with them yet. He’d promised to join them after he was done, though he made no promises for what state he’d be in. Lance had been getting worse, coughing more petals, looking more wan as each day ticked down. 

 

Keith’s head snapped to them, eyes searching, expression falling when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Who he was looking for. It hit Shiro like a truck then. Lance had talked to Keith. Keith had an idea, Keith was worrying himself sick over Lance. 

“Keith, we have something to tell you, something that's deeply distressing and a lot to take in.” Shiro swallows around the lump in his throat, “It's about Lance.” 

 

“He’s dying isn't he.” the voice is void of emotion, though the pain is straining at the edges, reflecting in his eyes. 

 

“Yes, he has something called Hanahaki, it's a disease where the victim is slowly suffocated by flowers growing from their lungs. He’s been coughing up flowers but, his condition is-” Shiro glances at the Paladins next to him, they’re so young. They shouldn’t have to go through this. “He’s getting worse Keith. He has just under two weeks left.” There's an audible gasp from the other end. Keith is shaking, hands over his mouth, tears leaking a brilliant gold in the soft glow of the tablets. 

 

“We’ve been helping him complete his bucket list. It’s something he asked if we would do. Said, it would bring him peace.” 

 

“Yeah, and he’s started making these shitty death puns.” Pidge laughs, tears staining her face as well. Hunk lets out a dry laugh before echoing “YODO” earning a low grown from those around him. 

 

“YODO?” Keith asked, meeting their eyes again. 

 

“Yeah, he’s really embracing this whole dying thing. So aside from the awful puns he’s been coming up with a bunch of ridiculous rules and stuff to ease the hurt of it. One of those things is YODO. You only die once.” Shiro cringes, try dying multiple times. That earns a hoarse laugh from Keith. Eyes flickering to the doors behind them. 

 

There was a soft hiss as Coran helped Lance inside. He’s gotten weaker. He’s barely able to move on his own now. He insists he can, but will give in for the longer distances. He’s been spending a lot of time with the lions and now wears a monitor. It’s connected to a variety of devices and will signal his flagging condition. 

  
It’s an awkward shuffle step as Coran and Lance make their way closer to the others. Lance has taken to carrying a bowl for the flowers since it’s gotten harder to get up and discard them. The blue Paladin glances up at the red Paladin, an unspoken conversation portrayed through expression alone. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance started, pausing to draw a breath. That's another issue he’d come across. He was beginning to tire easily, and talking was starting to leave him winded. “For springing it on you the way I did,” Lance continued, stopping in shock as he saw the wetness leaking from Keith’s eyes.

 

“I never got to finish,” Keith starts, voice suddenly dripping with emotion, choking on the sound. “I would want to see the sunset in the desert, I would want to tie up loose ends, I would want to say goodbye, that I was sorry that it had to be this way. I would want everyone to know how much I care for them, how it’s not their fault, how it’s not really anyone's. I’d want to ease the suffering as much as I could.  _ That _ is my answer, Lance” He saw the moment his words registered, the moment Lance understood. Tears brought out the sky blue of his eyes, an inner storm leaking out. Lance opened his mouth to say something to respond but stopped abruptly with a horrific gurgling sound. His head dropped over the bowl and he was spitting out blood. He kept coughing, eyes widening and tears falling faster when he started to struggle for breath. He fell forward, jerking from his seated position to kneeling on his hands and knees. Hunk and Coran let out a panicked shout, as Shiro knelt in front of him, voice soft and even despite the panic in his eyes. A shrill siren sounded, startling Keith, though it was his fellow Paladins that looked despaired. That meant something to them, it wasn’t an attack. It wasn’t until Allura came sprinting into the room, tablet in hand, mice on her heels that he realized it was about Lance, that it was some sort of code linked to how he was doing. It was Coran who lifted him a bit, opening Lance’s mouth, relying on Hunk to hold him instead, on Shiro to keep distracting him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before reaching into Lances mouth, then tugging, lightly at first then a bit more forcefully. There was a rush of breath, followed by a series of coughs, each one wetter than the last. Lance was sputtering into the bowl, well trying to. He looked ready to collapse. Coran held the item up, a large daffodil, not fully in bloom but large enough to take up the entirety of his palm. There was a short stem attached to it, thorns twisting about with chunks of, Hunk twisted in time to release the contents of his stomach at the sight. Shiro had gone pale, eyes rooted to the flower. Allura had dropped the tablet, tugging Pidge against her, shielding the green Paladin’s face from the flower, before tucking her own head down, eyes squeezed shut. 

  
Lance was panting for breath, eyes open and glazed. He swallowed hard, voice nothing more than a raspy croak when he said,  _ “Sorry, I think it’ll be less than two weeks.” _


	3. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be the conversations as well as ... well you know. But it was so long and I want you to know that the conversations hurt... and I'm sorry...
> 
> But basically all that happens is conversations.

They’d brought him to his room after that episode, each taking a seat somewhere that wasn’t covered in medical equipment or Lance’s daffodils. The drawer was overflowing so they’d found a home elsewhere keeping to the edges of his room. They’d all been sitting in pensive silence waiting for the methodic ticking of the timer to run out. The newest test that would show how much longer he had. Lance struggled to a seated position, arms opening to Pidge, then Allura as the princess stepped to the edge of his bed. He felt the flower rising, knew they could feel the tremor as he forced it back down, to wait and let him have this. His chest burned in retaliation, knocking the air from him anyway.

 

A soft beeping drew everyone’s attention to where Coran was hovering over some medical equipment. He kept quiet, blinking a few times, rubbing his eyes then looking at the screen again. His eyes said it all. Lance read them, even in his exhausted state. He was slowly withering away. Whatever Coran just found, his reaction, only confirmed Lance’s beliefs. It wouldn’t be long now.

 

He’d expected his death to be something loud, explosive. But his death was a slow, gradual receding. Like the tide. A sad smile tugged at his lips in understanding. He didn’t want to worry the others. He’d asked that Coran tell him the news alone, feigning a need for privacy. Shiro’s eyes cut through the facade though, glancing between the two, then baring Lance’s soul to him in only a way Shiro could. As the others filed out, he stopped next to Lance, a hand resting on his shoulder. His charcoal eyes shifted to a warm brown in the lighting. Eyes so wide and full of emotion that Lance was drowning in it. Shiro bent over tugging the younger male into a tight embrace, careful not to crush him. Drawing in a shaky breath he stood, squaring his shoulders, placing a mask over his face to appear strong for the others.

 

“Hey, Coran,” the Altean looked over, eyes glazed.

 

“I want you to know that no matter what it says, everything will be okay. It’ll work out. Just you wait.” He tried. Corans jaw clenched as he shuddered, tears lining his eyes. Mouthing something like, _it can’t... not again_ , that had Lance biting back his further attempts to lighten the mood.

 

“Well-” his voice was tight and thick with grief. “It seems that we’ll have to reschedule our trip to the Space mall.” Lance’s lips twitched at Coran’s own attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“How long?”

 

“Five earth days.” Coran said eyes watering, watching his fingers fold and straighten as he finger counted again. Lance sucked in a breath. It seemed he’d have to finish his plan sooner than he thought. There were only a few pieces left, and he’d gotten most of the labor intensive pieces out of the way. He’d have push through for everyone’s sake.

 

“Can we call the others in? I want to tell them myself. Besides that would be a good time to go over the other things you found.” Coran nodded wiping at his face before walking over to Lance’s side. It was a quick hug, but reassuring enough, it leant Lance the strength he’d need to get through this. Coran called the others in, with each passing tick they grew more and more tense.

 

“Well, I was thinking of saying something dumb here, but I don’t think this is the best time to be cracking jokes,” He started. Thankful when Pidge whispered that he was becoming self-aware.

 

“Coran has some news regarding my condition, after he goes through that,” he paused to cough, thanking God that there was no flower with it, though the increasing pressure of something working it’s way up his throat and scratching was beyond unpleasant and meant that there’d be more fits later. Coran blinked out of his daze, a victim of his past. He maneuvered the scans he’d done to project from a small handheld device.

 

“Um, yes. So according to these scans, the vines are spreading. As you can see here,” He gestured to part of a scan of Lance’s lungs, showing how deeply rooted the flowers were.

 

“It’s getting to the point the stalks are now growing up his trachea. By the end of the movement it seems that they’ll be visible when he opens his mouth. It’s going to get progressively harder for him to speak and to breath. He’s already experiencing a decomposition of his lung capacity. As if they’re discentigrating in his chest, shriveling as his Hanahaki sucks the life out of him.” as if to prove Coran’s point, he became overly self-conscious of his more pronounced wheezing.

 

“Oh, Lance,” It’s Allura. She reaches out taking his hand in hers. It gets harder to control his wheezing, the space between them filled with the slight whistle that accompanied his breathing.

 

“It’s alright guys.”

 

“ _No,_ it isn’t” Hunk was in tears, Pidge looking the same. Shiro looked to be dissociating, eyes haunted.

 

“It will be don’t worry.”  
  
“Lance-”

 

“Don’t _‘Lance’_ me. Look I know this is hard, but _I’m_ the one that’s dying. I know how hard this will be for everyone myself included.” he was trying to remain calm, but his anxieties were swirling something fierce, punching holes in his resolve.

 

“I have something I’ve been working on, there's multiple parts to it. You guys have already seen some if it, but there's others that aren’t done yet. And I’m working on it. It stresses me out to realize I only have five days, even fewer if you count the one’s I’ll be semi-functioning. But,” He takes a deep breath, hating the whistle in his chest. “I want everyone to know that I love them, I also want to talk to each of you before today is out. Each of you alone.” He adds. The others stare in shock.

 

“You’ve been working on _what_?” Pidge nearly screams.

 

“Is that what you do at night?” Shiro asks curiously. Lance sighs, he doesn’t have the energy to deny it.

 

“Yeah, it’s not exactly like its easy or comfortable to sleep now.” He glares at his chest as he says it.

 

“Is there any way we can help you with it?” Hunk asks, tears still staining his normally bright face.

 

“Not right now, bud, but- I promise you that if there is anything for you guys to do I’ll let you know.” They nod.

 

“Who’d you want to start with? For your one on one talks I mean.” Allura asks.

 

“Honestly anyone as long as I get to talk to everyone before the day is done. Though Hunk, my buddy, my man, I’d like to have our talk last.” They nod, Hunk’s eyes lined silver. The others look amongst themselves but decide to let the Princess go first upon seeing the fierce determination on her face. As soon as the others filtered out, Lance grabbed the bowl knowing this one would hurt. At least he’d get the most physically painful out of the way first.

 

“So, Lance what did you want to talk about?” She asked curious. Her grip tightening on his hands. He took a deep breath departing how to approach this. He had special goodbyes already prepared, his side of things done, so this was all about the others. About making sure that they were in a good headspace for his final days.

 

“Well, honestly I’m not entirely sure, what I planned on saying about all this is already done, it’s...uhhhh… part of that thing I’ve been working on, so ummm... How are _you,_ Allura? Like, with all of this happening? Is there anything I can clear up? How can I make this easier for you?” Allura had tears brimming, her face contorted as she tried not to cry. Lance felt a painful twinge in his chest, lungs burning at the sight.

 

“Oh, Lance, I’m just…” She sniffles, lips quivering. “I’m so sorry that this is happening to you. The suffering you’ve felt, how strong you stay for everyone sake. It hurts to watch. I just- I don’t want…” Tear flowed freely now, the dam broken.

 

“ _I don’t want you to leave_.” She whispered as her body shook. The sobs deafening. He held his arms open, catching the Princess when she buried her face into his chest. He hummed softly, recalling a song his mother used to sing to him in the face trauma. When her sobs quieted he began to hear the torrent of words spilling from her lips.

 

“It been too much loss. How much more must I lose before the universe is balanced again. Why is it always those I care about. Why can’t I ever do anything to stop it. Why… _Why?_ ”

 

Lance’s chest burned away the words he’d thought. He’d have to add that to Allura’s explanation, if he could even make it that far. He took as deep a breath as he could manage, squeezing her tighter, the pair of them shakinging with grief. Lance was able to limit the amount of flowers dispelled in the wake of their conversation. Though there was now a sickly line of blood connecting from the innocent daffodil in the bowl to his chapped lips.  

 

“Allura, I want you to know, that this isn’t your issue to stop. It’s my selfish decision to continue on this path. I’m-” He pauses to catch his breath, “I’m so sorry that it has to be this way, that I can’t protect you, or anyone else from this. But know that I’m at peace, I’ve given this a lot of thought and I know I can’t really do a ton to ease this burden from you guys. And you have no idea how much it hurts to know that I’m causing all of you this pain and that I can’t do much of anything to reassure you.” His blue eyes reflected the storm within, gleaming with too many emotions.

 

They pair sat for seconds, minutes, hours, he didn’t know but he savored every moment of it. He felt the roots digging deeper, felt blooms working their way up, but he pushed them off, pleading with them to let him enjoy this. To get through the meetings without having to dispel them.

  
After his conversation with the Princess the pair had gotten up to leave, just barely making it to the door before Pidge scurried in.

 

“Awww Pigeon wants to go next?” Lance cooed voice hoarse and scratchy from fighting off the flowers. Her face scrunched and she muttered _asshole_ under her breath and gently corralled him back to the bed he’d been on.

 

Lance sighed and flopped back on to the bed watching Pidge stand there. She looked at the bed then, the floor, then the desk, all while wringing the hem of her shirt between her hands. It’s moments like this that remind Lance hat she is that much younger than them. Sure it's only a few years but she's basically a child. Hell, they all are. He dragged his legs closer and patted the bed next to him. Pidge nearly bounced to the spot, throwing her arms around Lance and burying her face into his stomach, muttering _how he was a jerk, you should have done the stupid surgery_ . She whipped her head up eyes steely, bordering on livid. “You utter _ass_ ! How could you! I lost Matt and Dad, I can’t lose you too! Why are you doing this to yourself. To _us_ ! Don’t you care about us! _Why_!?” After the initial shock of Pidge’s reaction wore off, Lance took a deep breath, this would be more difficult than he thought.

 

“I know that my decision is selfish, and that you probably think that it’s stupid. But Pidge,” he paused to cough not meeting Pidge’s horrified eyes, “I want you to know that I am at peace with my choice. That this is truly what I want.”  
  
“You don’t want to _live_?” She pressed.

 

“Think of it like this, think of what you feel for your brother, and your father.” She hummed closing her eyes emotions flashing in response. Caught in distant memories.

 

“They would want you to be happy, want their memories to be happy. Want you to feel happy and enjoy their presence. With me, I don’t want to lose those feelings.” He sighed, throat itching again. “I want to be happy, I know that it’s a selfish wish but I don’t want to lose those feelings, I hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive me for being so selfish, that you’ll be able to understand.” Pidge’s lips quivered, eyebrows pinching as her body shook with silent sobs.

 

“As if I could ever stay mad at you.” She said hoarsely. Voice pitching and breaking. Lance sat smiling sadly at his found-sister. She’d already lost so much, and he hated to add to that burden. Hated that he couldn’t protect her from the cruel hard truths of the world. He held her while she cried, choosing to remind her of the good times, remind her of when he flirted with every alien they encountered. Reminded her of the space mall trip, and all their shenanigans. Reminded her of the jousting with the sentry. Reminded her of all the good they’ve done as a team. Of how much she’s grown and of how proud her family will be when she finally finds them. He’d paused to wipe the tears from his eyes, fighting back the burning in his own. She'll do alright because in the end, death isn’t always goodbye.

 

Pidge agreed that she was better than when she initially came in, that she was at as much ease as she could be with the finality of the situation looming overhead. She’d hugged him one last time before giving him time to himself, claiming she had agreed to help someone with something, hastily rubbing her eyes and taking off toward the common room.  

 

In the brief interlude between guests, Lance saw to expelling the flowers that had been climbing up his throat during the visits. He watched in bewilderment as the full blooms spilled into the sink, bright yellow blinking with rich ruby splotches. He exhaled a shuddering breath, blinking against the black spots in his vision, taking a moment to glance at his reflection.

 

Gone was the bright eyed Lance, the one that had been full of joy at the premise of exploring the endless frontiers of space. The man that stared back at him had sallow skin, dark circles clinging to the bags under his eyes. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his teeth stained faintly red. He cringed. He looked like death, like the reaper himself was standing with his wraith-like hands around his neck. Lance shook his head at the image. No, he had to be strong, if not for himself than at least for his friends, to ease the worry.

 

He meandered through the halls of the castle ship, watching as he gained a following of mice. He bumped into Coran on his way to the lounge. The Altean was fiddling with some odd junk that was meant to be in the Castle’s inner systems. He jolted out his haze at the boy in front of him, eyebrows high, and mustache fluffing comically.

 

“Lance, my boy, how are you feeling?” Lance weakly smiled, wheezing on a breath in,

 

“Oh dear, let's get you seated.” Unlike the other talks Lance supposed that this was very like Coran. He’d talk your ear off with wild anecdotes about youth if you’d let him. The male Altean had taken to talking the ears off the Paladins when they’d first arrived, cornering them in the then unfamiliar layout for “chats”.

 

“Thanks Coran,” Lance said, placing the bowl he hadn’t realized he’s grabbed down beside him, cringing when the mice climbed inside it, playing with a stay petal or two. The pair sat in silence neither knowing where to start.

 

“Coran- I- I’m sorry, I know that this isn’t easy on any of you, but I know that the strange earth disease probably hurts you more than we considered. You’ve always been able to fix us when we go off into battle, you’re always the one that takes care of us because we can’t be trusted to do it ourselves. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I know that I could be a menace when it came to reckless injuries. I want you to know that I think of you as like- a father figure, someone to fill the void that’d been ripped when we found ourselves so far from home and in such a strange world. You and the princess-” Lance paused, blanching at the flower caught in his throat. He reached for the bowl, tipping the mice out, sure he felt bad, but he’d like to think that they could forgive him for not coughing blood and flesh onto them under the guise of a floral blanket. Sucking in a few shaky breaths, melting into the comfort of Coran’s hand rubbing at his back

 

“You’ve both been so welcoming and accepting despite what you’ve been through and I can’t help but admire your strength to do so. How you can both remain so kind despite all you’ve seen and endured.” Lance said, voice cracking. Coran’s eyes were watering as well. The male was biting his lip to prevent himself from crying. He reached a shaking arm out towards Lance, smiling softly when the boy leaned into the touch.

 

Coran pulled him into a hug, holding him the way a father holds his son. How a family holds another to comfort them. Coran smiled sadly, looking at Lance before breathing out a long sigh of his own. One that seemed to age the male many years. Lance watched as Coran gathered his thoughts, opened and closed his mouth, biting his tongue many times before saying,

 

“You know Lance, you were right this is hard. And quite honestly it’s awful to do. But, you remind me of my son Cornelius. The boy was always getting into things he shouldn’t have been, but he managed to make all others around him smile regardless of the circumstance. He was a lot like you, and I think that in a way the Universe was giving me another chance when you freed us from the cryopods.” He paused, eyes distant, hold tightening slightly like Lance was a memory threatening to slip from his fingers.

 

“I lost my boy to an Altean disease, a form of quintessence poisoning. This one was rare in the population and only certain Alteans were carriers. It seemed that either myself or my wife held some sway with the disease. Our fears were manifested when our son was born. We knew, knew he didn’t have long. He’d likely never live past his first century and I know that is common of earthing life spans, but as you may have learned Alteans are a long lived species. We did our best to push him to be the best despite his limits. But he shocked us all at every turn. Used to speak like you too. Joked about his illness, saying it wouldn't get the best of him. He made all others smile, showed everyone that you aren’t defined by your disabilities, but rather how you let those limitations control your life. His passing was abrupt, his illness had turned but that wasn’t what had gotten to him.” Coran bites his lip, wiping at his eyes.

 

“No, it was a broken heart. He learned of the passing of his beloved who had been on a supply run that was intercepted by hostile galra. Learned of what they’d done, how they’d hurt their prisoners before killing them as a final mercy. He died of a broken heart, and I thought that maybe,” Coran’s voice was starting to break in a way that had Lance’s heart shattering into another thousand pieces. “ I thought -that -tha- that maybe this time I could do something- that I could prevent it from happening again- from taking my family again.” Coran wailed, and Lance sat stuck ramrod straight. It’s always hard to watch a parent crack. They’re always such these great heroic figures. Like statues not showing any pain or sorrow, only showing strength and perseverance. It hurts to watch them crumble to know that no matter how hard you try, you can’t put that figure back together, even with all the pieces, they never fit together right again. Lance tugged Coran closer the two crying for sometime, wrapped around one another on the floor. Lance telling Coran how thankful he was to have the male in his life, how much he appreciated hearing the story, how he admired Cornelius’ strength, how he understood how the male must have felt. He tried to explain to Coran that this wasn’t his to stop but he couldn’t ease the pang of guilt that seemed to be growing larger with each meeting. He couldn’t keep letting them suffer.

 

Lance ended up expelling more flowers throughout the exchange, apologizing all the while but the pair sat wrapped around one another until they’re bodies grew numb from the hard floor. Lance was helped to his feet and they were making their way to the training lounge, when they passed the training room, watching as Shiro knocked the many gladiators on their asses time and time again. Lance thanked Coran, giving him yet another hug before wobbling over to the bench with his bowl. The older Paladin blinked in surprise before calling off the training sequence, making his way towards Lance.

 

“You know, I had planned on speaking to you after, well, after I showered.” Shiro laughed, easing to a seated position next to Lance on the bench. Lance laughed, though it was more of a whistling sound as the air pushed from his lungs. Shiro cringed but tilted his head at Lance.

 

“Are you entirely sure this is what you want to do? That you’d rather not have the surgery?” He tried, eyes gleaming in the bright lights.

 

“I’m sure Shiro, this is how I want it to be. And I know that this is hurting everyone. It’s awful to watch what it’s doing to people I can’t begin to imagine when it- when I die. I can’t begin to imagine how everyone will handle it. You’re all so strong but death has a way of defeating even the bravest warriors.” Lance muttered rubbing his sore eyes.

 

“It does, but it also serves to show the how much stronger they are when they can get back up again.”

 

“Hmph, No wonder you’re the Black Paladin.” Lance laughed

 

“I only know what I’m doing half the time, I fake the rest of the confidence.” Shiro admitted blinking at the lights. Lance thought he heard his jaw hit the floor. Shiro laughed when he turned back to the younger Paladin.

 

“What you can’t believe I truly understand what's happening all the time?” He laughed again.

 

“Speaking of happenings, I filled Keith in and he’s trying to make it back early, Kolivan seems to understand the situation and is switching Keith out with another member of the Blade.” Lance nodded in thanks.

  


“I feel like I’m going about this all wrong. Like there's technically no right or wrong way to die, but I feel like I’m selfish and needlessly hurting my friends. I’m trying to-” Lance coughs, no flower but a trickle of blood and part of a stock came up. “As I was trying to say,” Lance begins again, “I don’t know how to go about doing this. It’s hard when you know you have a running timer, knowing its counting down and your powerless to stop it.”

 

“Would you believe me if I told you I knew the feeling?” Shiro asked softly. Lance tilted his head, squinting against the lights.

 

“Believe it or not. I was given a timeline as well. It’s something I spent my entire life working to beat. Working to prove to people that my illness doesn't define me. It actually almost prevented me from going to Kerberos.” Shiro confessed, not meeting Lance’s wide eyes.

 

“Admiral Sanda was adamant that I wasn’t to go on the mission, but Sam Holt refused to go unless I went with him. But that wasn’t the worst part of pre-kerb.” Shiro started, pain leaking into his eyes.

 

“One thing I found with having my illness was having a close support group, and people to push me to be the best, who’d help me on the days were it hurt too much to get out of bed. I found that in my friends and family back home. I think the biggest advocate was Adam.” Lance was awestruck.

 

“Adam? Like Mr. W?” Lance asked.

 

“Yes, Mr. W” Shiro laughed.

 

“He was my best friend and along the way that relationship changed. We were closer than ever, he even advocated for the electrostimulators which prolonged my timeline. He was,” Shiro smiles sadly eyes closed reminiscing.

 

“He was there for the good the bad and the ugly. Through thick and thin, but Kerberos, despite all that I’d accomplished before was the goal, but his metaphorical straw. He’d agreed with Iverson and Sanda, that, ‘there's nothing left for you to prove you’ve broken every record there is to break’. I was so stupid and I thought he was just trying to tell me I’d run my course. That it was time for me to sit back and retire. The mission could have destroyed me, in regards to my disease. Adam feared for what it would have done, what that length of time would have caused. He told me before we left, that he, ‘ won’t go through this again, so if you leave don't expect me to be here when you get back.’ It destroyed me in ways I didn’t know it could. Every now and again I catch myself thinking about him, about what he’s doing whether he has the same regrets as me.” Shiro breathes out.

 

“I only had a few years left to live before the Kerberos mission, but I couldn’t fathom it being alone. So believe me when I know what your feeling.” Lance opened and closed his mouth a few times before the tears spilled anew. He fought the tickle in his throat as he buried his face in Shiro’s chest.

 

“How did you-” Lance paused to cough cringing when blood dripped onto Shiro’s shirt. “How did you deal with that? Like the loss?”

 

“It took a long time, but I came to realize that Adam did what he did because it was his form of coping with loss. So while you may try to protect everyone it doesn’t always work out the way it’s intended- That came out meaner than I thought,” Shiro paused, “Basically what I’m trying to say is that no matter how much you prepare, it can never predict how it happens. Ugh, that's not much better,” Shiro cuts off groaning. Lance laughs,

 

“It made sense actually and I think that it helped me more than you’d think. I added a whole bunch of unnecessary stress trying to ease everyone else’s pain that I’m ignoring my own, I’m hiding from my own problem, pretending to be strong, but-” He coughs, this time a flower does come up, bursting forth with a spray of petals. Like a grotesque canon he thought. Thankfully none of his lung was stuck to it. Lance laughs again sharing the thought with Shiro and though he cringed at it, Shiro laughed along. Lance tucked the daffodil behind his ear, despite Shiro’s protests.

 

“Umm, I don’t know how to ask this, but umm, but don’t feel compelled to answer you totally don't have to if you don’t want to. But,” Shiro laughed at Lance’s rambling, a deep laugh one they haven’t heard in ages, most definitely since before Lotor was a constant presence in their lives.

 

“No I don’t still have the disease, whatever the witch did to me it took it away,” he looked at the prosthetic. “I’m thankful that the most I lost from it was the arm,”

 

Shiro and Lance went back and forth sharing stories, learning about the illnesses, and about each other. It was an easy transition to talking about his projects.

 

“Hey Shiro, I’ve been working on these projects for when I’m gone, but I didn’t want to tell anyone in case it doesn’t work out. I’d rather not tell anyone so they don’t get their hopes up. But, after I- ya know,” Lance cringed, fighting another spell of flowers. “Can you possibly tell them? Tell them that I didn’t want the cure because I didn’t want to lose the ability to love. I’d rather be able to feel than not. That I have something for everyone, that should all work out, death isn’t goodbye?” Lance asked, eyes pleading. He hated to put the responsibility on Shiro when he had enough on his mind, especially with the more frequent headaches.

 

“Absolutely Lance, I promise you that I will.”

 

“Thank you,” Lance started, moving to stand and instantly regretting it when he felt the blood rushing from his head. With his eyes pinched shut, and steadying himself with Shiro’s help, he turned to the Black Paladin and said, “Also, Shiro I think you should share your story with Coran, I think he’d take solace in it.” Shiro looked mildly confused but agreed to.

 

With Shiro’s help, Lance made it to the lounge, flopping down onto the couch, savoring the small comfort it brought. It threatened to coax him asleep but he still had two more talks to have. One of which would be saved for after dinner the other would be now. Lance pulled his communicator device out, finding Keith’s signal. The dial tone rang out several times before Keith’s shaky figure came into focus.

 

“Lance, hey, um, how are you feeling?” Keith asked eyes searching, eyes widening comically when he spies the blood splattered flower behind Lance’s ear.

 

“Not gonna lie, I feel like shit. I’m sorry for-” Lance’s face scrunches as he turned towards the bowl, leaning over it in preparation, then relaxes when the feeling passes, “I’m sorry for springing all of this on you when you’re so far removed from it. I know how important that mission is for you. I know that-”  
  
“Lance forget the mission. Most of it is done already, it’s just the clean up and distribution now. It’s fine. But-” Keith pulled up the star charts he’d be navigating through. “I think that I can make it, assuming that there's no interference or delays.” Lance smiles, appreciating the thought.

 

“Keith- I’m- I’m really sorry to spring all this on you from such a distance. To make you worry when your busy and-”

  
“Are you _fucking_ kidding me.” Keith hissed startling Lance. “Like hell I would want it to be any other way. I’m glad you told me. I would have murdered you if you died while I was gone. Especially if I wasn’t able to say goodbye.” He starts eyes brimming with unshed tears he tried to subtly clear.

 

“Wow,” Lance says utterly dumbstruck.

 

“Lance, I’m not sure if you realize this, so I’m gonna spell it out for you, so maybe, just maybe, it’ll get through your thick skull. You’re so important to this team. Your the glue that holds everyone together. Hell, you're the reason we all ended up together in the first place.”

 

“Oh, you’re so welcome for getting us stranded in a foreign solar system, while stuck inside a giant robot cat.”

 

“Let me speak asshole,” Keith grit out.

 

“You helped to keep my impulses in check, you helped me branch out, you helped me so much and you don’t even know it. I wouldn’t have half the confidence for any of what I do without you. And when Shiro disappeared,” Keith paused sucking in a breath, “When Shiro disappeared I was lost. I was so lost because the one constant I had grown to rely on was ripped from me. Was like someone pulled the rug from under my feet. But it was you who pushed me to be great, to do what scared me most. To do something I swore out of spite I’d never do. You helped me to understand myself and to cope with the loss. I’ve noticed that in the time I've been gone the way you’ve changed. You're quieter, you stare longer, you play the devil’s advocate. You put everyone before you and that's both your biggest strength and greatest weakness. And it’s something I admire about you. But Lance, you’re irreplaceable. And as much as I want to hate you and be angry about this I really can’t be, I can’t be because I understand.” Keith says eyes shimmering the tears flowing freely as he hastily wipes them away, fringe falling slightly into his eyes, reminding Lance of a small child.

 

“Keith,” Lance’s throat and chest were burning as his own tears slipped past their barrier.

 

“Lance, I want you to know that, that I’ve had my fair share of loss. Something that shouldn’t be a surprise at this point.” Lance thought back, remembered how cold and reserved Keith had been in the beginning, how painfully awkward he was around people. He’d later confessed to the team that he avoided people because of deep rooted abandonment issues due to his parents. That didn’t sit well with anyone so they each went through monumental efforts to show him that they were there to stay that he could trust again and that it’d be okay.

 

“But know that we’ll be okay so stop worrying about us and worry about yourself. We’re going to go through several emotions going to feel many things and we’ll overcome them because you’d kick our asses if we didn’t. What’s hurting more is watching you suffer but not show it, watching you hide your emotions which are something you used to wear proudly on your sleeve. So please, promise me Lance, that you’ll take care of yourself and hang on until I get there? I’m several system away but if all goes according to plan I should be there in two days. Lance I’m- Lance?” Lance was covering his face, sobbing into his hands trying to avoid coughing flowers across the lounge at all the emotions swirling through him.

 

“Thank you, Keith.” He meant it to come out even but it cracked and was barely more than a whisper. The pair paused starting before crying harder.

 

Lance broke the temporary silence, breached only by sniffles, with a question one he needed an answer to. One that would help him come to terms with meeting his own end. He’d tell Keith his spiel after.

 

“Keith, I’ve wanted to ask -and you don’t have to feel pressured to answer but… can I ask what pushed you to decide that going all kamikaze on the shield months ago was a good idea? Like what pushed you to decide on that?” Lance watched as Keith bit his lip, worrying it for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh.

 

“I thought in that moment, I need to save Voltron, because without you there's no hope, there's no end to Zarkon or Haggar. I knew that we didn’t have the means to do it without Voltron and part of me was selfish. I thought that if I sacrificed myself, it’d be a bigger gain for you all in the end. I realize how desperate we were, how I was thinking that if there was any way to help Voltron, anything at all, I’d do it. It was terrifying, but I’d resigned myself to it. I think the scariest part of it all was that I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye to everyone but above even that,” His voice trailed off, a quiet whisper, “Above that was that I was alright with it. That I wouldn’t have been able to explain it. And I saw my life flash before my eyes the regrets, the wishes, the-” He paused his voice breaking, face haunted. “But when Lotor broke through the shield and I was alive, it all came crashing down on me, the reality of what I’d almost done and that made me more afraid of myself than I’d ever been. That's why Matt found me curled up in a ball in the fighter jet, why Coran and Kolivan wouldn’t let me out of their sight for days.” Keith said, hand covering his face. Lance’s own hands were covering his mouth as tear streaked his face.

 

“Keith,” The sound muffled. “I- Thank you, I know that it wasn’t easy to talk about that, but when you said I helped you earlier, you’re helping me. Your helping me make sense of everything, helping me to come to terms with everything. What you just said, it changes a lot of what I thought I believed about my own end.” He turns to cough into the bowl, grimacing at the shine of the blood in the soft light, at the stupidly cheerful flowers sitting in a pool of it.

 

“Keith I want you to know this before, well ya know,” Lance takes a breath, shivering and gagging when one of the stems brushed the wrong way. “Remember way back when we were on Arus? And Pidge threatened to leave? Or when you said that you were pulling back as a Paladin to embrace your heritage as a Marmora legacy I couldn’t help but think of you as a hypocrite.” He watched Keith make a fae going to cut him off, “But, I understand. It’s a part of you you’ve always had, a part that brings you closer to your family but with you gone it made me realize just how far all of us have come, to see how much we’ve all changed. We were such kids when we showed up in space. I remember you used to pick fights with every alien we came across, that we had that rivals thing. I’m not sure when that changed but I’m so proud of how much you’ve changed.” Lance paused to catch his breath hating how winded he felt, and caught the hoarse, “okay mom” Keith muttered.

 

“But what your absence really showed me was how close you and I had become, and I wanted you to know I missed your stupid face every time you left and it's not fair. The castle isn’t the same without your mysterious, tough guy, broody-attitude. The castle is so different, even voltron feels different without you there. I have a favor to ask though” Keith quirked an eyebrow in response,

 

“After I’m gone, I want you to pilot red again. I want there to be a familiarity in the team. I’ve already spoken to the lions and they agreed, but promise me Keith, I’m not asking you to lead them, just to be there for them, to help them defeat the biggest bad the universe has ever seen. Before you say anything, yes I can see you mouth moving. It's my turn to talk, asshole, so let me.” He paused to breathe again mouth turning to a snarl as Keith laughed quietly at him.

 

“I hope that you’re able to find your mom and that she’s able to help you understand more about yourself, that you’ll be able to forgive her and listen to her side of the story, that you’ll be able to be a part of the family you always deserved, but I guess Voltron is in a sense is a temporary filler, you deserve that permanent bond. And I’m sorry that it had to be this way.”

 

The tears were back on both ends. Thankfully Keith hadn’t realized Lance had been recording much of their conversation he wanted the raven haired boy to remember this. He also wanted to make sure he had verbal confirmation of Keith agreeing to the terms. They made small talk for a while longer before Pidge and Shiro came to fetch him for dinner. Smiling sadly at the parting of the Red and Blue Paladins before helping Lance to dinner, Shiro taking it upon himself to clean Lance’s bowl.

 

The Paladins sat at the table for a family meal, which, sadly, Lance decided, now included Lotor. The Prince of the Galra Empire was civil as always but his presence and the doe eyes Allura spent the meal making at him twisted something in Lance’s gut. He felt every lovey-dovey comment like a stab to the heart. He refused to let it show. Grimacing though the pain, he force fed himself the space equivalent of garlic knots. It seemed that aside from the royals everyone was growing increasingly more aware of Lance’s struggle. Being the wonderful friends they were they tried to distract Lance, tried to keep the conversation light, laughing when one of his stupid rules were enforced. Laughing that much harder when Lotor got caught on the receiving end of a few of them. He went along with it after Lance’s long speech about “how it's his last week and it's his turn to be dramatic so you ca take your princely mannerisms and shove them up your-” Shiro thankfully intervened before Lance could offend their ally with such talk. While Pidge and Hunk were doubled over laughing, tears pricking the corners of their eyes.

 

After a mostly civil dinner, Lotor had to leave to attend to some pressing matter regarding his Empire. That left team Voltron, sans Keith, together for dessert. Hunk had really outdone himself he managed to make ice cream sundaes with each of the Paladin’s favorite flavors from back home. Pidge had ended up with some peanut butter cookie ice cream like the heathen they were. Hunk settled on a coffee flavored ice cream, because the space mangos did not taste like earth mangos. Allura slurped down an excessive amount of Juniberry ice cream, despite Coran’s chiding. Shiro let out a litany of sounds that were so inappropriate in the context of eating cookies n’ cream ice cream that Hunk screamed and Pidge snorted her ice cream through her nose, Lance laughed so hard his vision spotted and he was gasping for breath. He enjoyed his dulce de leche ice cream and was content that night, so content he almost forgot about the impending chat with Hunk.

 

The thought sobered him up, he glanced around the table, the nervous glances the team was sending at his sudden silence. He was willing to bet with the way Black, Green, and Yellow were glancing between him and the Princess that they had some sort of idea about the root of his illness. He shook his head, letting out a sigh.

 

“Hey Hunk, are you up for talking now or did you want to-” Hunk didn’t even let him finish. The boy merely scooped him up, placing their dishes in the washer and carried him to his room.

Hunk deviated and took Lance to his bedroom instead, claiming the flowers kind of weirded him out, it reminded him too much of a funeral home. Lance snorted but wrapped his arms tighter around Hunks neck agreeing, the bowl thumping awkwardly against Hunk’s chest.

 

When they finally made it to the yellow paladin’s room, he’d set Lance down as gently as possible on his bed then fret about like a mother hen, fluffing pillows, nearly smothering Lance in blankets after he’d rolled him into a nice blanket burrito. Hunk had also brought stress snacks, since he knew both of them were likely going to be a mess after this.

 

“Hunk I-”

  
“Nope, nuh uh, you aren’t allowed to say you’re sorry, or that this is goodbye. I’m not having it.” Hunk protested arms crossed and tears already staining his face.

 

“Lance, please don’t make me say goodbye. You know how I am, I- I just can’t. I hate watching you suffer. I know your internalizing a lot of this so you don’t freak us out- speaking od freaking out please move the daffodil from your hair, if it wasn’t covered in your blood I would maybe work with it but everytime I see it, it hurts more to know I couldn’t save you this time.” Lance feels the words like a punch to the gut. Feels the tell-tale self-loathing setting in as he realizes he's the source of the suffering. Feels the nagging voice that says maybe he should just get it over with, so that they suffer less, or so that he doesn’t have to see the suffering.

 

The horror must have been reflected in his eyes because suddenly he’s got a lap’s worth of Hunk sobbing into his stomach, belting out apology after apology. That he didn’t mean it that way that- and so on and so forth. Lance wrestles an arm out of the blanket to card his fingers through Hunk’s hair smiling slightly when his best friend relaxes and melts into the touch.

 

“Hunk, I swear whatever you just started apologizing for was pointless because you have nothing to apologize for, You’ve been such an amazing friend, and a huge supporter throughout the whole thing. You’ve kept me sane, because I know I can go to you about anything, because your my best friend, because-” He wheezes, since Hunk decided to bear hug him midway through his speech, “Because you’re my brother, since you’ve always got my back no matter how stupid or ridiculous the idea, you would never let me do it alone and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

 

“I can’t go with you this time, I can’t help you with this one bud.” Hunk says through tears.  

  
“Can you make sure that you bury me with all the flowers?” Lance asks trying to lighten the mood.

 

“I’d rather bury in garlic knots that way we can all be salty about it.” Hunk mutters, face still pressed to Lance’s middle.

 

The pair spend a majority of their “talk” crying together, pressed against one another and most of the comfort food gone. Lance brings up the other major thing he meant to ask Hunk, since he trusts him and knows that he could do it for him.

 

“Hunk, I know you probably knew I was gonna ask this, but still-” He takes a deep breath, “Can you possibly tell my mom? I didn’t get to say bye to her when we left earth, and we’re too far away to make a stop, granted, I think I’m too weak to do it anyway, but can you tell her about our adventures in space. That I did it because one of the most important lessons she taught me was how to love.”

 

“Of course Lance. God, you didn’t even have to ask. We’ll all make sure she knows just how much you’ve done for the team. For the universe,” Hunk smiles eyes red and puffy, “There's nothing I wouldn’t tell your mom, I'll tell her how strong and brave you were and leave out the ya know... maybe suffering part.” They somehow find it in themselves to laugh about it. Hunk deciding which of the most heroic stories to tell Lance’s mother, which ones his siblings would have loved as blackmail material.

 

“I bet Marco and Rachel would have loved the one where Nyma handcuffed you to a tree and stole the blue lion.”

 

“Yeah, and Veronica would have loved the one where I accidentally threw up all over that alien diplomat” Hunk laughed so hard it shook the pair of them.

 

“Luis would have loved the training stories, especially where you and Keith got stuck in the invisible maze. When we all took bets on how long you’d stay mad at one another. About how much electricity your bodies could handle without stopping your hearts.” Hunk supplied.

 

“You wouldn’t dare,”  


“Bet,”

 

“Bro,”

 

“Bro,”

 

“My Hunk’a burnin’ love, please don’t tell them that one, they’d never let me live it down, they’d probably put it on the ofrenda.” Lance whined.

 

“Wait!” Lance shouted, startling Hunk.

 

“My family doesn’t know I’m dead! They wouldn’t have put my picture up!” Lance wails, much to Hunk’s dismay. He was tempted to put out that their families likely already thought them dead and had been honoring tradition since, but he figured that’d make matters worse. He settles on a bear hug, just a tad bit tighter than intended but he hoped it’d be enough to calm his best friend down. It used to work. Hunk had been so in his head he didn’t hear the gasping sound leave Lance’s lips or feel the slight spasm before his friend went slack.

 

He pulls away, cringing as he watches Lance flop limply back onto the bed, face first into the nest of blankets.

 

“Oh my god I killed Lance.” Hunk says in disbelief. He repeats it much louder and with more panic.

 

After the third panicked, “OH MY GOD I KILLED LANCE,” He jumps off the bed pacing watching the shallow rise and fall of his friend’s chest.

 

“Oh my god, his mama’s gonna kill me. Oh my god the rest of the teams gonna kill me.” There's a faint clicking sound in the castle before the alarms start. Hunk manages to scream, “SHIRO PIDGE HELP I DID A THING! A VERY BAD AND ACCIDENTAL THING!” right before the alarms go off. The shrill siren sparking the rest of the castle to life. Pidge came running into the room, a first aid kit in hand. The size of the container dwarfed the girl, as she paused, eyes wide and glued to the form prostrate on the bed. Shiro was the next to arrive. He slid into the doorway, slamming into the doorframe, and hunk watches in fearful fascination as the Black Paladin’s galra arm bends the metal of the frame upon seeing Lance on the bed.

All three of them managed to bring Lance to the med bay where Hunk petrified of the look on Coran’s face, managed to tell the entire story. Profusely apologizing and gaze permanently fixed on his friend. Lance had regained consciousness mid way through the entire ordeal, assuring everyone he was fine, though bitterly debating whether or not he’d be on his family’s ofrenda, and what month it was on earth since he feared he’d missed so much. They’d sent him to his room to retire and relax for the night so that everyone could sleep without worrying too much.

 

 _Four more days_ Lance mutters.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. I know that this a tough topic and I feel like Satan for writing this but any kudos and comments makes me think that finishing this is worth the heartbreak. Wherever your at in life know that there's someone that cares about you and you aren't alone.
> 
> Also Please let me know if anything was inaccurate. I tried to research but my knowledge of Latino/a culture really only extends to the language itself not the culture, and I'd greatly appreciate if anyone can tell me if its accurate or not since I'd rather not offend anyone...


	4. If I Die Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: The Main Event
> 
> the final countdown comes to an end. lots of feels. you know what is going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I want you to know that this chapter hurt me. It hurt me in ways I didn't realize writing could.  
> Is death really goodbye?

After the deadly hugs incident as he began calling it, Lance was put on a more strict watch, so that any changes in condition no matter how small they seemed to him would register to the castle’s mainframe for all to see. Thankfully with the updates it wouldn’t sound the alarm system unless it was deemed unsafe to his well being. Lance left the team to themselves for the day. He can feel his strength flagging and decided today was the day to put everything together. He’d managed to hobble to the storage room he’d occupied since his illness struck, which he likened to the room of requirements from Harry Potter since it seemed to fit his every need. He finished his tinkering, dispelling a few flowers, before heading to the seldom used undercroft of the Castle of Lion. The undercroft was dismal to say the least. Coated in thick layers of dust that Lance had slowly but surely been working his way through since their departure from Arus. Lance had grown fond of the dull gray interior, arching vaulted ceilings. The former occupants had used it to store family memories.

 

Lance had caught himself wondering if Allura or Coran even knew this place existed. He’d learned a lot of Altea’s history. He learned much of what Alfor had planned, of why he cerated Voltron in the first place, of a gifted Alchemist by the name of Honerva, of the rift, of his family. Of his precious daughter. Lance had felt guilty the first time he stumbled upon the room, like he was trespassing into some sacred space but his curiosity got the better of him when he’d accidentally tripped into one of the series of stacked crates and the little disk lit up with a hologram of Alfor and Allura’s mother. It had filtered through images and a few videos and while Lance didn’t understand Altean he could see just how much family meant to the princess, how deep her connection to her father was. He made a mental note to add this room to Allura and Coran’s entries. He sighed, grabbing the crate he’d spent weeks dredging up, inwardly cursing himself for not taking his declining health and strength into consideration.

 

By the time Lance had dropped the crate off in his room, black spots were floating across his field of vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, deciding that no he definitely wasn’t going to pass out. He didn’t have time to pass out, he had to finish what he started. He grabbed the bowl, a multi tool that Pidge and Hunk had engineered for each Paladin, and the series of codes and the headset he’d need for the final step for this plan.

 

The mice accompanied him to the AI room, located on the same floor as Kaltenecker, though she was given her own space to coexist on the castelship. He wandered into the room glancing at the small dias like platform where the AI projection lays. Lance placed the bowl off to the side, after a particularly rough fit that yielded flowers, blood, lung, and stalks, he’d begun the final touches on his surprise. He entered the code in the panel, pairing the headpiece to it before slipping it on. He recited the ancient Altean mantra he’d found in Alfor’s work for the AI, waiting as the room shifted from gray, to white, to black, to red, to orange, to green, to yellow, before lingering on blue. He smiled softly as his limbs turned to ice and his breath came out in shallow puff ahead of him. He felt the chill felt the link and he knew. He prayed it would work. The broken mirror effect disoriented him, he felt himself reach out, hand brushing something tangible, heard himself yelp before the lights disappeared completely. He could faintly hear the alarms going off, heard the rush of footfalls coming towards him, heard the lions rumble from their hangars, he could feel everything. His chest ached, like someone took one of those heated knives and tried to cleave him open. He could distinctly feel something being pulled from his head, head it clink against the floor before the doors whoosed open. Before everything went black.

 

He came to, to the sound of beeping monitors and hushed whispers. He groaned eyes pinched shut, turning his face into the nearest surface, which happened to be Pidge’s thigh. There were people running their hands through his hair, a habit that they’d picked up from Hunk when they learned the motion soothed the Blue Paladin. He could tell from the touch that it was Allura running her hands through his hair and he felt his chest begin to burn brighter, hotter than sun. Felt the pain radiating through his body, felt the stalks pressing the wrong way in his throat, felt the rush of blood fighting gravity. He weakly shoved at Pidge through his pained gasping. The hand in his hair stilled in concern. He heard the sharp intake before he curled in on himself coughing blood onto the bedding beside him. A distressed sound left the Green Paladin, followed by a chorus of shouting and beeping. His eyes stayed shut, his hand scrabbled at his shirt like it could ease the burning. Lance was positive he could physically feel his lungs disintegrating at this point.

 

He’d always loved and admired the ocean, growing up on the beaches of Cuba could do that to a person. His Abuelo had instilled the deep fearful respect of the ocean in him as a child. That understanding that beneath its magnificent surface there were forces at work which demanded caution. He’d seen first hand the effects of the oceans pull, felt the surge of the sea, felt the burn of the salt water when he’d recklessly brushed the warning off, when he dove in during a storm, when the sea dragged him down, down, down.

 

He jolted back to consciousness for the second time, this time he was breathing more clearly. His eyes burned like he’d been crying. Based on the shaken expressions he could only guess that in that last bout of consciousness he had been crying.

 

“Lance?” Pidge started, eyes red and puffy.

 

“Hm” he hummed, his throat felt raw. He watched as Hunk sagged into Shiro and Allura dropped back into the chair she’d apparently jumped out of. Coran forced a smile as he looked at Lance.

 

“What happened?” Lance tried, though it sounded more like “‘ut ‘apned” Coran’s smile vanished. His face fell as he looked to Shiro. The Black Paladin took a shuddering breath, mouth open but snapping shut as Hunk yelled,

 

“You were- were drowning in your own blood! You were choking on your own blood.” Lance blinked in surprise.

 

Pidge, eyes downcast muttered, “There was so much of it. You couldn’t stop coughing it up and every time you tried to breathe in between you inhaled some of it. You were thrashing and in agony.” tears welled in her eyes again.

 

“You were gasping out something in spanish too, but I couldn’t make out much of it aside from ocean, afraid, and sorry.” Hunk said softly eyes searching.

 

“Oh,” Lance said. Blinking against the lighting.

 

“Well it seems that you’ve been over exerted yourself as of late. As much as it pains me to say this I believe that it is in your best interest to remain bedridden until you regain some of your strength,” The princess cringed at the words. Lance wanted to laugh, regain his strength. What a joke. His strength was going to plummet even farther. There was a reassuring pressure on his leg, Shiro’s eyes bright despite the pain lingering there, a reprieve from the inevitable.

 

“We were talking while you were unconscious, we don’t want to see you suffering Lance, we don’t want you pushing yourself too hard. We talked about this because we realize that confining you to your room is kind of like a punishment, so we’re giving you a tablet that can contact any of us so that we can give you space when you want it, so we can be with you or move you somewhere should you desire it. We want to make you as comfortable as possible.” Shiro’s gaze shone with sympathy as he probably had endured similar situations himself.

 

“ ‘s okay, really, I get it. I think resting for a bit would be really good actually.” The team seemed relieved at that.

 

After they’d gotten Lance settled in his room, pillows fluffed and all, journal and pen on his side table tablet resting atop them, they seemed reluctant to leave. He sighed relaxing into the bed, before saying.

 

“Not gonna lie I feel awful and I’m exhausted, but you guys can stay while I sleep if you want, I don’t mind, just don’t be too loud.” They all smiled, claiming seats for themselves on the floor by his bed.

 

The team had settled into a ridiculous circle on the floor of his room, listening to the soft inhale and exhale as Lance dozed next to them. They all started no one knowing what to say, how to cross the threshold.

 

“This isn’t at all how I thought any of this would go,” Allura confessed, gaze lingering on Lance’s sleeping form, a hint of fondness that hadn’t been there before.

 

“Yes, earth diseases seem quite…” Coran started.

 

“Morbid” Pidge supplied.

 

“Yes,” Coran said hesitantly. He glanced at Shiro, the Male had confessed to him that he had once struggled with a terminal illness of his own, and the bond that had formed there will never break. Coran decided he’d do his very best to protect everyone, but a special place in his heart for all the Paladins.

 

“Has-” Pidge started then grimaced.

 

“Has what?” Hunk asked quietly.

 

“I answered my own question, never mind its stupid, ignore me,”

 

“No question is stupid Pidge,” Shiro said softly. Pidge sighed.

 

“Fine, but before anyone says anything I’m sorry that this will sound really impersonal and maybe slightly offensive and I’m sorry my emotions are a mess right now and I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.” Pidge said in one breath.

 

“Pidge, breathing” Hink said, hint of a smile gracing his lips.

 

“Right, so umm. I know that we all probably have but, have you ever lost someone close to you,” She avoided eye contact with the Alteans.

 

“Yes,” Coran said sadly, the Princess nodded sympathetically.

 

“As I’m sure you’ve likely guessed we lost everyone in the fall of Altea, my Father and Mother were both caught in the storm.” Allura says sadly though fondly. “I’m still grieving but I like to think that maybe, just maybe they’re proud of everything we’re doing”

 

“They most definitely would be princess, like Allura I too lost people in the fally but I think that the hardest loss happened before that, my son,” Coran gets choked up, eyes lingering on Lance.

 

“I lost my son to a disease, and heartbreak so Lance’s condition has hit harder to home than i had originally expected it to.” A collection of gasps resounded around the circle, hands grasping Corans as he shared.

 

“I lost my Brother and Father, but back home my grandmother,” Pidge starts eyes on her now, “I lost my grandmother, I was super close to her, she was the one that pushed my brother and I to follow our dreams to go to Space,” She says fondly.

 

“I didn’t take it well when she passed, I remember being angry that she left. Not really understanding the finality of death.”

 

“I lost an Uncle to cancer,” Hunk said sadly.

 

“He was one of the major influences in my life, he taught me that you are who you are, and to embrace it. He pushed me to pursue my passions and watching the slow decline hurt, I knew he would put on a mask so we couldn’t tell how much he was truly suffering and I think that Lance is doing that too. I know he wants to protect us but I hate watching him suffer.” Hunk said sadly, lacing his fingers with Lance’s.

 

“They turned to Shiro, who’d been unusually quiet. I lost my twin brother.” He sad soft, eyes drawn to his past.

 

“We were young, Ryou younger than I. But we were playing, nothing unusual. But all of a sudden something was wrong. He started to-” Shiro shook his head, the haunted gaze falling away.

 

“It was a freak accident where his body couldn’t process stimuli. I lost my best friend and it changed my outlook on everything. Something I still don’t think I’m completely over.” Shiro said sadly. He felt more than saw Pidge launch themselves into his lap after his story. Hunk squeezed his hand while the Alteans joined in on the group hug

 

“Keith has experience with death as well, but that's his story to tell,” Shiro started.

 

“We all have some experience, so maybe we’ll be better at handling it this time around. I know Lance it's exhausting himself trying to make sure we’re alright. I just-”

 

“Don’t want him to worry,” Allura said softly.

 

“Yeah,” Pidge sniffled.

 

Their conversation flitted between topics before they decided to call Keith. He at least didn’t yell when he answered, the screen depicted a sleeping Lance so Keith kept his tone hushed. They filled him in on Lance’s condition watching as worry seemed to radiate off the Red Paladin. He confessed that he was delayed because he had to go around two systems instead of straight through them.  

  


The phone call hadn’t lasted long in fear of waking Lance up. Shiro had a sneaking suspicion that Lance was conscious for at least part of the conversation, which parts he didn’t know. Pidge and Hunk had left to go come up with a means of making it so Lance could still sort of talk, while Allura had claimed the mice stank of food goo and needed a bath.

 

When Lance did awake he noticed that Coran and Shiro were still there, talking softly.

 

He opened his mouth to alert them that he was awake thankful when they helped him to sit up. They said they’d be back in about a varga giving him time to himself which he was thankful for.

 

He reached for the journal and pen, smiling faintly as he jotted notes down in each Paladin’s entry. As he tore an empty shee from the back and wrote a final note one that would begin the witch hunt.

  
  


It’s been three days since Lance received his final timeline. He’d woken up with this ungodly sore throat. In the quiet of his room he tried to speak to himself, a habit he’d developed as a child, never liking to have long hanging silence. He would have entertained that thought more if he could make any sound that didn’t sound like a punctured dog toy, that rushing air sound.

 

Tears stung his eyes, he left the bowl, opting to stumble his way towards one of this fellow Paladins, legs leaden fighting the motion. He’d originally planned on going to Hunk but the poor thing was sleeping less and less, constantly worrying. He’d even been baking an excessive amount, to the point he’d stopped reading ingredients and began inventing new substances like some weird hybrid cleaner that doubled as pod fuel. Lance let him sleep, guiltily pushing past his room towards Shiro’s. The older male didn’t sleep as much as the rest of them due to PTSD- induced insomnia. Lance hated the tears that stained his face, hated that even crying he couldn't make a sound aside from ragged breathing.

 

He knocks on the door cursing the echo in the empty hall. His hand at his throat the other repeatedly hitting on Shiro’s door. Said man in question was in the doorway not a minute later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, clad in low hanging pants and a long sleeve shirt. Lance cried harder, still no sound coming out eyes pleading with Shiro.

 

The male jumped into action. Checking his throat for flowers, content that there was no airway obstruction he began running through all the medical training he had. Lance nodded his head here and shook his head there, sighing Shiro realized this was unlike anything that he’d been trained for, he swept Lance into his arms, backtracking to the Blue Paladin’s room, grabbing a blanket and the bowl, before heading towards Coran’s quarters.

 

When Coran opened his door to a wide-eyed Shiro and a crying Lance he knew something was wrong. The castle hadn’t alerted them to a change in Lance’s condition and he was trying to figure out why. The three sat in tense silence as they waited on the test and scan results. Lance wrapped in the blanket watching the altean script in shock. Shiro pulled the boy closer to him, wrapping an arm around him from the left, his human arm, as Coran did the same from the right. A faint beeping pulled their attention back to reality.

 

Shiro squeezed Lance’s shoulder in comfort as he remembered receiving such news as well. He was right it’s easier to be brave when you have support. Coran drew in a steep inhale, holding it for a count then releasing it. He turned to the Paladins, eyes pained.

 

“So your symptoms are something akin to Vocal Cord Paralysis. Likely due to the trauma of your hanahaki disease on your throat. It appears that your case is rather severe because usually those that suffer from this are able to produce more vocal sounds, though your other symptoms lineup. So basically it seems as though your ability to produce sound is gone, but your larynx still, mostly, does what it’s supposed to do. Lance opened his mouth to share something then frowned when he realized he couldn’t produce sound. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes curling in on himself where they were sitting on the floor. Over his head Shiro and Coran exchanged looks of their own.

 

“If your feeling up to it, we could try lip reading?” Shiro tried.

  
“Ah yes! It's much like one of those Earth games right?” Lance gave an exaggerated sigh before touching at his throat, feeling the discomfort of the flowers and stalks.

 

“We can head to the kitchen and get something to drink I think that there's some of that space honey there.”

 

“Why must you earthlings categorize all things by saying space why not call it what it is, Bricalminess Cobyzatify, a thick gelatinous-”

  
“Nope, that's enough of that.” Shiro clamps a hand over over the Advisor’s mouth.

  


Space tea made, space honey utilized, and soft conversation later the trio were startled by a haggard looking Allura wandering into the Kitchen. The Princess didn’t say a word, merely opened a cabinet grabbed something to eat and walked back out, feet dragging, and communication device hanging by her side. They all barely contain laughter before the alarm concerning Lance’s health goes off, only three varga late. The trio had been keeping a timer to see how delayed it was, opting to recalibrate it after the alarm went off.

 

Allura stumbled back in eyes wide, bag of chips flying, Lotor on the communication screen forgotten. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the three males sitting casually at the table drinking tea. Pidge scrambled in next, feet literally flying out from under her, causing her to do a baseball-esque slide into the room.

 

“What’s wrong is Lance okay? I heard the alarm.” She started but paused upon seeing Shiro, Coran, and Lance casually sipping tea despite the ear splitting alarm ringing. Hunk chose that moment to body slam his way in not expecting Pidge or Allura to have stopped where they did. It was like watching a fail compilation in slow motion. Watching as the realization hits everyone, the moment they all realizes it’s too late to stop it, watch as Hunk trips over Pidge who’s still on the floor, and falls into Allura who gets thrown into the cabinet she’d pulled her secret stash of chips from. Lance mouths the word strike and sets Shiro and Coran laughing. The sound seemed to set things back to real time because suddenly there were three very angry crew members looming over them.

 

“Uhh? I can explain,” Coran promised patting Lance on the back, watching as the boy sputtered around his gulp of tea. He glared at the advisor over the lip of the cup, before sulking.

 

“Lance are you okay? Why’d the alarm go off? What happened” Hunk yelled, bracing his arms on the table.

 

“...” Lance tried then tucked his face into Shiro’s side so the others couldn’t see his face, see the fearful expression that stretched across is. Shiro moved to pull Lance closer and to rub his back a bit, but the Paladins caught the pained look the Black Paladin and the Advisor shared.

 

“Well, where to begin,” Coran began again, drawing the attention of the Paladins back to himself, the alarm quieting. He caught their terrified looks, before pausing.

 

“Lance, may I share the results of the most recent test.” Said boy only nodded his head, barely perceptible against Shiro’s reassuring presence.

 

“So let’s start by saying that the Alarm that monitors Lance’s health was out of alignment after the last jump, the system not accounting for the forward leap in time. So it was approximately three earth hours off. It would seem that Lance has something akin to Vocal Cord Paralysis-”

 

“Wait Lance, what does that mean,”

 

“Yeah, please tell me you’re okay”

 

The sound of his jaw settling, the force with which he snapped his jaw shut and grit his teeth stopped the further questions in their tracks. Shiro closed his eyes pulling Lance closer. The blue Paladin hiding his face in against Shiro’s neck, squeezing tighter. Shiro rested his chin on Lance’s shoulder, opening his eyes again and watching as realization struck Pidge. She gasped, oversized sweater swallowing up her tiny frame as she stood in shock, eyes wide, tears flowing, hand over her mouth.

 

She lets out a tiny gasp, more akin to a squeak and rushes to Lance’s side, shifting the boy a bit to hold him close between her and Shiro. Her carmel eyes shone brightly in the kitchen lights, emotions rippling off them as Shiro’s own sad gaze confirmed it. Lance shook, silent sobs wracking his body, startling the youngest Paladin. Lance who had been so strong through this was breaking down. The strength, the fight leaving him in his final hours. The realization stuck Pidge hard, her own sobs echoing in the kitchen.

 

“It’s okay, Lance you’re gonna be okay. We can read lips, and typing is pretty cool too, maybe we can even give you an artificial voice I could have that set up in a matter of ticks I promise that-” Pidge rambled. Hunk and Allura stood frozen, eyes wide in alarm.

 

“Oh Lance,” Allura started, her jaw hung open, at a loss for words. Hunk seemed to be going into shock because Lance without a voice was his worst nightmare. The one constant he’d come to rely on, his outlet for stress and coping was gone.

 

Lance had a habit of running his mouth constantly. Regardless of whether it was for input on a mission, a joke to diffuse tension, or the hell of it, Lance used his words to express his emotions, used his words to relieve stress, to cope with everything. Hunk remembered back in the Garrison there was a week lance had laryngitis had lamented after that it was the worst week of his life, even worse than breaking his leg in the middle of swim season. Hunk had watched the light dim, watched Lance’s spark fade when he could speak. He feared what that could do to his best friend, what it would mean if he lost his will to fight. Heck Keith wasn’t even back yet. He’d run into a snag apparently and had to go around two systems instead of through them, and as a result was running about a day behind schedule if not more. Hunk knew that the boy was likely beating himself up over it, losing sleep over it.

 

Hunk was helped to a chair as he processed everything. The look in Lance’s eyes was the metaphorical straw. Hunk broke down, cried harder than he’d ever remembered, felt so many of the truths he promised to guard for Lance threaten to spill just to end the suffering.

  
  


Just when everyone thought things couldn’t get any worse, Lance in his final hours had lost the ability to see, and was hard of hearing. Coran had the monitor hooked up to him. The rhythmic beep of his heart monitor a macabre symphony with his wet breathing, the whistling sound as the air bent and weaved its way around the stalks that were now visible when he opened his mouth.

 

Lance, true to form had ensured that they put him in some of his nicest, and warmest clothes as he lay in the overflowing tub, petals fluttering with each shuddering intake, and rasping exhale. The flowers a serene backdrop to a hero’s end. Not the end any of the Paladins had considered. After one of their most harrowing battles as a team they’d all sat and wrote wills, they’d decided that incase anything should happen that they be prepared. They’d all assumed it would be a high stakes battle that did someone in. Pidge bitterly cursed the flowers. The bright yellow once may have complemented Lance’s cheery persona and glowing skin, but the illness was sucking all the life from him. The pallor of his skin more gray and ashy than the sun kissed tan his skin had been. His lips were cracked and seemed to have permanent blood stains. His eyes fluttered, the milky white blinking at the overhead lights. They missed the stormy blue, the crystal blue when he was enamored, the hardened ice in the heat of battle.

 

None of them were taking it well. They were just thankful that he couldn't see how affected everyone was. Hunk’s normally bright presence had dimmed, the teen was hardly eating, and what he did manage to eat resurfaced the way it had came due to his emotions. Pidge had become closed off. The girl was agitated, and scared. So much like a scared animal lashing out and all. Allura had turned to Coran and Lotor for comfort, she became quieter. The passing reminding her too much of the risks and that she was the one that kept them here. The guilt weighing heavily on her. Shiro wasn’t much better. The leader while presenting a calm and understanding front, had taken to internalizing everything. Everything that could have been avoided, thinking and understanding what Adam had meant, how his parents must have felt when it was him lying motionless in agony. Coran had a near constant string of tears pricking at his eyes, mouth muttering words in a tongue long since forgotten. He’d been like Shiro an anchor for the rest while weighing himself down with the troubles of his past.

 

There was a blip of a notification, indicating that a ship had docked in the bay. Mere moments later a disheveled looking Keith burst into the room. His eyes falling to Lance, standing still in horror as he gazed at his friend, his brother in arms. He hated this. He hated how frail the boy was. He was thankful at least that Lance was fighting, that he held on past the predicted end. He was a whole day past his supposed expiration. Keith drops to his knees next to Lance’s death bed, the Blade suit letting out a soft thump as his knees crashed to the tile, ignoring the stained flowers. He gently takes his hand in his own, cradling it tenderly ignoring the looks of his teammates. He lets out a shuddering breath as he holds Lance’s hand, watches as the boy blinks, trying to tilt his head in Keiths direction. Keith ignores the burning in his eyes and the wetness on his face as he stares at the lifeless eyes, they were no longer the blue he’d become accustomed to. In their place were glazed over, white pools. Keith bit his lip, the words threatening to spill out. The other Paladins had informed him that Lance was worse for the wear. That he could no longer speak, maybe if there were to be a miracle he could but it was extremely unlikely. While he was mere systems away he’d been informed of Lance’s loss of sight and most of his hearing. Lance looked to be just existing. Like he was holding onto that final string, like he was one breath away from his chest not rising again. Apparently he still mouthed some words, with Hunk playing translator.

 

Keith knew Lance couldn’t hear him but he tired anyway.

 

“Hey,” his voice broke as he dissolved into sobs, the rest of the team teary eyed. Shiro had moved from where he’d been perched on the counter to sit with Keith, hand rubbing his back consolingly.

 

“I know you probably can’t hear this but I made it. I made it Lance, so thank you for defying the odds. Thank you for holding on, for continuing to fight. I left you when you needed me most, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that. You’d confided in me, a level of trust that at the start of this I didn’t think was possible. You-”  Keith’s body shook as the sobs took over. His hand shaking as he locked fingers with Lance. The rest of the team had moved closer to Lance, consoling him, consoling their own, consoling themselves.

 

“You meant the world to me, and I don’t think you’ll ever know that. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much you changed my life and for that I’m infinitely grateful I just wish you could see me, could hear me.” Keith sobed, weight entirely pressed into Shiro. He thought maybe he was imagining it the subtle squeeze of his hand, but the team watched with bated breath as Lance opened his mouth, lips moving at an incredible speed.  

 

“I think I’ve lived a good life,” Lance started, pushing on despite the shock from the crew despite the pain in his chest, “a short life but a good one, yeah? I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I wanted to say at the end ya know?” Tears slid down his face as he spoke.

“I promised myself that I would save the energy to do this. To get this off my chest. So I could go peacefully and not be restless, or agitated. I have a lot of regrets, not gonna lie, making you guys suffer this with me, because of me is one of them. There were days that I-” His voice broke on a hard cough, blood dribbling from his lips,

 

“That I selfishly thought about ending it early. About putting everyone out of their misery. I’m broken. I’ve known that for a long time but the fact that I considered that option scared me more than the act itself. I think I understand what Keith meant now.” He rasps, blood still trickling from his mouth. “But my biggest regrets, I wished I could have seen Varadero one last time. To feel the ocean, the sand. I wish I could have told my family goodbye. Either before this whole intergalactic space war or even before this happened. I wanted them to know it was okay, that I was okay. And I wish I could have seen Keith one last time.” He doesn’t hear Keith cry out, or the shocked pain stricken expressions of the team nor the tears. He feels a slight pressure on his hand and vaguely registers what he thinks might be yelling. But he can’t hear it.

 

“-here- ance- I’m- me- Kei-”

  
“I wish I could have apologized to him about the stupid rivalry thing, it was wrong of me to take out my frustration for being compared to him and remind of how his absence allowed me to be a pilot, I should have said sorry. I should have said bye. He said he’d kill me if I died before he got here, so sorry about that buddy, but if anyone is there or listening please let him know that,” Lance takes a shuddering breath, the exhale is more of a spray of blood and petals and flora. He didn’t see how devastated Keith looked how he squeezed Lance’s hand harder, how he begged and pleaded to be heard, for Lance to hear him. How the others had began to cry and plead with Lance to stop. To stop hurting them, to stop this deathbed confession, to ease the pain.

 

“I wanted to live, I want to live, but not like this. I can’t do this anymore. I’m so cold, I’m so tired. And, ” He breathes. Resolve breaking, strength plummeting. “I’m scared. I’m afraid of leaving all I know. I don’t know what happens after this and I suppose that the mystery of it all but, I’m terrified.” He cries though it’s tinged with hysteria.

  
“But, I can’t do this anymore. I think I’ve held on long enough. You have to let me go, you have to move on with everything because that what we do. I’ll always be here in some way or another but it’s time for me to move on.I’m so sorry, for all this, for the pain, the suffering, but know I love you all. _Hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar en nuestras próximas vidas, los quiero a todos_.” his voice tapered off, they watched as his chest took one more shuddering breath. It fell and did not rise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone coping with anything remember you are strong and there are people that care about you.  
> The beginning of the next chapter is going to hurt a bit too, but it's almost done.
> 
> Thank you to God-Complex for putting up with all my angsting. Good luck on that exam remember I'm here to cry with you cause honestly fuck stats. But our obligatory conversations, thank you for helping my creative outlet.   
> How are you going to mentally destroy people … think satan. Think… you drink your fuckin tea.   
> Don’t you mean drink the tears of everyone’s suffering?  
> I dont know how to write cinnamon rolls. I’m not a cinnamon roll im a suffering roll


	5. Post Mortem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The immediate after effects of the death. Can you keep a secret? Hunk and Shiro can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought that I would be done with like 2 chapters to go but no. Every time I think its done its not. theres a thing thats coming up soon like the next chapter that'll have its own side story. So the journals if you want to see what Lance had to say to everyone I'd check that out. 
> 
> It's a shorter than usual chapter but hey bitter sweet, right?

In the minutes following Lance’s death the team had remained in shocked silence. No one daring to break the relative silence. No one willing to acknowledge the void in their hearts. They weren’t as ready to accept his death as he was. Keith was crumpled on the floor beside Lance, still clinging helplessly to his cold, limp hand. Fighting the sobs that wracked his body. Hunk, not much better had gone and scooped Keith up, burying his face into the other’s shoulder. Hunk had one arm pulling Keith against him as they cried, the other shakily running his fingers through Lance’s hair. His eyes void of the usual light and mirth started unblinking at the overhead lights. It was Shiro who reached out with a shaking hand, and barely contained tears as he closed Lance’s eyes. The milky color so unlike the crystal bule they used to be. He wanted everyone to remember a happy Lance, not the sullen boy that he’d become in his final weak. Pidge had been clutching helplessly at Shiro’s Galra arm, pressing her face against him to block out the images, like if she pinched herself hard enough then it would all be a nightmare and she’d wake up and Lance would assure her nightmares are normal and that he’s fine. But she did open her eyes, and the tears began anew, her heart sinking, a leaden weight bearing down on her, when she realised that it was real. He wasn’t coming back. Shiro, the support of the group had an armful of Pidge, Coran crying against his back mumbling out broken phrases in between excruciating sobs, and the Princess at his side. Her hands clasped over her mouth as she shook with the force of contained sobs. 

 

Shiro felt the weight of the past few months weighing on him. Knew that no matter who opened their mouth first would damn the rest of them. His inner turmoil took away from the high pitched squeaking getting closer and closer. It was only when Allura jerked upright, mice in her hand, glaring angrily, tails lashing,  gesturing between her and Lance that Shiro but two and two together. Shiro opened his mouth but Hunk beat him to it. 

 

“I can’t do this anymore,” He whispered hoarsely. Face pinching, like what he was about to tell them would hurt more than the passing itself. Hunk glanced at Lance’s body before shaking his head, crying. 

 

“I’m so sorry. I know. I know I pro-promised you th-that I w-wouldn’t but,” He hiccuped. “I can’t keep th-this one. I knew-” he tried, tears keeping his eyes from opening fully. “I know who he loved, and I know that the love wasn’t returned. I know why he chose what he did, but,” He starts, ignoring the shock on the teams faces. “He made me pro-promise not t-to tell. I’m s-so sorry bud- I can’t. I have to tell them, they have a right to know. I’ll keep your other secrets but this one I can’t keep. Not in good conscious.” 

 

He shifts Keith, the boy had collapsed against him in anguish, his violet eyes blinking. Hunk knew most of the team had likely guessed at it but what harm could come of telling them now. It's too late, he thought bitterly. If only he’d said it sooner, if only she’d loved him back. Maybe it would have been enough. Hunk grit his teeth, bracing himself before Shiro blurted,

 

“He could have done the surgery. To cure it. There was a cure.” He says taking in the alarm on the Altean’s faces. 

 

“There was a… a cure.” Coran starts, mouth agape.

 

“Yes,” Shiro says, completely frantic. He ran his hand through his hair, the black mixing with the white, over and over. “There was a cure, but there's a potential side effect of taking away the ability to love. Or even loss of memory for the person and feelings that were there before. He was worried, he didn’t want to mess up the team dynamic. He didn’t want to be a burden,” He hated how his voice broke. 

 

“You knew.” Allura accused, tone soft, but her voice was devoid of emotion, like she had no fight left. “You knew there was a cure and you didn’t tell us. Coran looked to be dissociating and based on the conversation Shiro had had with the man days earlier it made sense Shiro couldn’t imagine losing a child, let alone two. 

 

“It’s all your fault,” Hunk breathed, gaze icy. Allura blinked.

 

“I beg your pardon?” 

 

“It was you, he loved you, he has since we first landed in this godforsaken hell hole you call reality. He’s been flirting with you since day one. Are you really telling me that you were that blind to it?” Hunk accused, refusing to back down. His best friend, one of the few lingering pieces of his past, a connection to home was gone. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. 

 

“Hunk,” Pidge snapped, pulling his attention to her. The green Paladin looked even smaller than he remembered. She’d curled in on herself, the hoodie swimming on her, the dark smudges under her eyes rivaling those of Keith’s from nonstop days of flying with no shut eye. 

 

“He was your best friend. Your brother,” She started, eyes watering. 

 

“He trusted you not to say this. How do you think he’d feel if he could see you throwing accusations, literally across his dead body.” Keith let out a whine, a pained punctured sound. Hunk reeled as if slapped.

 

“Please,” Shiro tried, voice breaking. His eyes glassy, Shiro was pleading with them.

 

“I had a feeling,” Allura started voice just barely above a whisper breaking the tense silence. She turned her jeweled gaze to Lance’s body. “I knew he liked me, but he didn’t push me when Lotor came into the picture. In fact I think he encouraged me to pursue it. He said something that really stuck out. ‘You two look at one another the way lovers do, the way someone would if they were willing to give anything to see you happy.’ He said that to me, shortly after I began piloting Blue.” She breathed, making to stand. “I noticed his flirting had mostly stopped since Lotor came into the picture, but it was something about him, maybe the storms in his eyes, that made me question it, made me think of what he meant, what he was sacrificing.” 

 

“He started to withdraw after that,” She continued, taking Lance’s free hand. 

 

“I was the real blind one here,” her voice broke, tears staining her face. She pressed a shivering kiss to Lance’s brow. One to each of his eyes and a final brush of her lips against his. She collapsed on the other side of the tub, ignoring the looks of distress around her. Out of her mouth fell a litany of apologies. 

 

“I’m sorry Lance, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I made you suffer so,” Coran joined the princess, whispering a prayer in Altean to the Blue Paladin, before taking his hand and brushing his lips against his knuckles, hand shaking as he threaded their fingers together, letting out a story only two of the remaining Paladins had heard. His son, both his sons, he hoped were in better places. He’d miss Lance they all would. It would be for the best if he were the one to prepare the body. 

 

“I think it's time to prepare the body. Are there any earth specific customs we should know about.” The paladins forze lookin between each other. 

 

“I don’t like thinking about funerals,” Keith mumbled, voice raw. Shiro nodded in sympathetic agreement. 

 

“Lance is Cuban right? Do they do funerals differently? Like the wake and what not? Is it a church service? Wait, was Lance even religious?” Pidge started, rubbing at her eyes. 

 

“Catholic,” Hunk supplied sullenly. 

 

“Huh,” Pidge said. They’d never outwardly discussed religion sure she’d noticed the extra chain Lance wore around his neck, one seperate from his Garrison-issued dog tags. 

 

“Wait is everyone here religious, or ummm spiritual?” Pidge asked curiously. 

 

“Agnostic,” Keith mumbled, hand squeezing Lance’s tight. His face crumbled again so he buried it in Hunk’s shoulder.

 

“Catholic, but also spiritual, it's complicated.” Hunk said soft, still playing with Lance’s hair. 

 

“Buddhist,” Shiro replied soft. 

 

“Catholic,” Pidge replied dumbly. 

 

“Does that mean something?” The Altean's pondered. 

 

“Yes, depending on your culture and your religion funerals proceed differently. You have different traditions you follow.” 

 

“Do we know if he wanted to be cremated or buried?” Shiro asked, voice hoarse. 

 

“I think deep down he’d expected to be buried alongside his family back home,” Hunk started, lips quivering as he tried to hold back another wave of tears.

 

“We can’t exactly bury him in space. And I really don’t want to just leave him out in the middle of God knows where.” 

 

“So these funerals you have on earth, how do they,” Coran trailed off uncertain. 

 

“They usually have the body or urn if your cremated on display for like a day to several for people to pay their respects. Usually with some form of tribute to the deceased. Like photos or videos? Then there's like a procession where family, friends, acquaintances, etcetera all follow to the cemetery where they have a nice little ceremony and they bury their loved one. And then they go out to a dare I say reception. It’s like a meal to eat and grieve together. We usually wear certain colors for mourning. In Catholicism it's usually black.” Hunk says. 

 

“Other, ummm cultures, have different grieving colors?” Coran asks.

 

“Yes, in Buddhism and other cultures there are different colors in grieving. In a Japanese Buddhist funeral we wear simple black clothing, but other cultures wear white. Or a color representative of the person in death.”

 

“Have all of you attended earth funerals?” Allura asked soft, still beside Lance. All of them nodded some more haunted than others. 

 

“I think he’d want it to go as closely to an earth funeral as it could be. The wake the funeral. I’m just not sure what his original plans were. He told me the other night to bury him in flowers. I thought he was kidding but,” Hunk looked nervously at the tub of flowers, all of which Lance had personally coughed up, some stained bright scarlet with blood. It just made the greyish pallor of his skin more noticeable. He started to feel waxy, more like a doll than human. 

 

“All I can say for certain is he’d want us to grieve to process it on our own. That he’d want us to go on with life and not let this break out spirits.”

 

“Do you think he’d want to be embalmed?” Pidge asked, though not fully understanding the concept. Shiro made a face and turned an alarming shade of green.

 

“Please no, I know that it’d make him look less sick, but I couldn’t bear,” Shiro breathed hastily, “I don’t think,” he groaned, running his hand through his hair again. “The cotton, and the wax, and the fluids, and the stitching.” Shiro gestured, looking more sick with each mention. 

 

“I wonder if Lance would want a viking funeral, I mean talk about being dramatic,” Pidge tried, hoping to boost everyone's spirits.

 

“I call sending off the first arrow,” Hunk said breathlessly.

 

“Hate to break it to you but that usually requires a boat, and like water.” Keith said morosely.

 

“What about a pyre?” Allura asked. Though her short lived mirth was snuffed out when she saw the look the Paladins shared. 

 

“Shireen,” Pidge said, “Too good. Too pure. Gone too soon,” shaking her head.

 

“For the night is dark and full of terrors,” Shiro mumbled. 

 

“The lord of Light… yeah nope sorry can’t do that one…” Hunk said. 

 

“Valar morghulis,” Keith mumbled cringing.

 

“Valar dohaeris,” The others echoed. 

 

“Is this another Earth pop culture reference?” Coran asked, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. 

 

“Game of Thrones,” Hunk said. 

 

“Did you know Lance was a fan of Game of Thrones, like a huge fan?” Keith said sadly glancing at the blue Paladin, his fallen brother in arms lying peacefully still. 

 

“Yep,” Hunk said at the same time the others yelled, “What!” 

 

Keith let out a dead laugh. 

 

“I figured it out when he yelled, ‘dracarys’ when shooting fire from red. After that all the other smaller references made way more sense.” Keith said sadly. 

 

“I miss him,” Keith said softly, dragging the mood back down. Shiro, stood from where he was, making his way to his little brother. 

 

“He didn’t even know I was here,” Keith’s voice broke as he began to sob again. The Paladins remained glued to their spots for a while, trying to ignore the weirdness of being in a room with a corpse, trying to ignore that it was their friend, their brother who lay there, never to rise again. 

 

The Paladins had lost track of how long they’d been sitting around Lance, each beginning to come to terms with the loss. Pidge had become less animated, less joking. She became more angry and agitated, she’d left along with Allura who seemed like spending any more time with Lance, was physically paining her. She’d gone from a self assured stance to one weighed down by guilt. Coran had offered to prepare Lance’s body. Shiro offered to help but Coran merely nodded at the rest of the team, telling Shiro he was needed there more so than helping Lance. Hunk and Keith still sat beside Lance though looked more and more distressed when Lance seemed to be showing the early signs of rigor mortis. Shiro gently ushered them out of the room and towards the kitchen, for some juice pouches. They’d all been crying and needed to replenish themselves. Moving forward would be hard, would hurt all of them in different ways. 

  
  


In the hours following Lance’s death the Paladins hadn’t said more than a few words, afraid of breaking the silence, afraid of it all being real. Coran cast a wary gaze to the red paladin who slouched more with each step, only held up by the black Paladin. The Red Paladin the most broken up over it. You see, Keith ran into a systems glitch while attempting to make it back in time to see Lance off. He had to bypass going through systems instead, hovering on their outskirts so not as to draw attention to himself as well as the glitching ship. The interference had messed with the controls and the navigation system. When Keith had come sprinting to the Blue Paladin’s room after everything his hands were covered in crudely cut bandages and he only barked out a couple words saying that the ship was in bad condition and the controls were sparking so he burnt his hands trying to maneuver the ship. Keith had shown up for Lance’s final moments, but Lance was so far gone he hadn’t realized the boy had been there. So when Lance said one of his three regrets was that he didn’t get to say goodbye to Keith in person, red had broken down, lunging for his free hand. Lance had been blind and almost deaf at that point unable to see the shock and horror, the grief of his teammates faces as they realized it. Keith tried yelling out but Lance kept talking in that horribly raw and soft voice, despite the fact they could all see the vines in his mouth as he spoke.

  
He missed Keith crying out. Yelling at him, “Lance it’s me Keith. I’m here, Lance. I’m right here. I promised you. You promised me you’d say goodbye in person. I know that your health has deteriorated since I last spoke with you but please Lance. Please,” Keith tried. He heard Lance continue on, talking about what the others were to tel Keith when he showed up. Lance missed the expression as Keith broke. You could pinpoint the moment his heart sharted. Fractured into a million tiny fragments, “Tell me yourself asshole! I’m right here. Lance please. Listen to me. I’m here and I can hear you so please stop this!” 

 

“Please no, don’t do this to me, I don’t want to lose you too, not after-” Keith despaired, tears staining his face. The others began yelling as well, still catching Lance’s words but hoping that despite his last hurrah he’d be able to hear them, that by some miracle he’d hear them crying out, to listen. To know he’s not alone, that the words were hurting. He didn’t see how devastated Keith looked how he squeezed Lance’s hand harder, how he begged and pleaded to be heard, that Lance needed to listen to him, for Lance to hear him. How the others had began to cry and plead with Lance to stop. To stop hurting them to stop this deathbed confession. He cut all of the Paladins off, his final words, a melodic string in Spanish, something the team would remember forever, “Hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar en nuestras próximas vidas, los quiero a todos.” The looks of horror and anguish as his voice tapered off, they watched as his chest took one more shuddering breath. It fell and did not rise again. 

Coran took a deep breath. He offered to prepare Lance’s body. He’d found an old suit, something the earthlings had agreed upon, he’d even tailored it to fit Lance perfectly. They decorated him with small blue embellishments. He smiled sadly. Lance reminded him too much of his late son for his liking. Though Lance lay still, eyes closed. He finally looked serene. 

The earthlings had warned Coran of rigor mortis. He had a general idea of what it did, but watching it in action, trying to work both with and against it proved a challenge. The beginning signs were in the stiffness of Lance’s neck and jaw. His lips had been slightly parted after his final outburst, but his jaw seemed to be locked. His eyelids too seemed to be effected. Coran had reluctantly had to take a break around the 12th varga as his entire body seemed too stiff to work with. He’d taken to preparing the clothing Lance would wear. The other Paladins argued to keep his things as he’d left them, like a time capsule, at least for the time being. Coran was assured that Lance would not want to be buried with a cape or a helmet, but would rather look his best, stupid facial products and all, Pidge’s words.  

 

When Coran was just about done preparing him, he’d found a crumpled note in Lance’s hand. How the Paladins who’d been holding his hand missed it he didn’t know but, he carefully slid the paper from his grasp. He turned it over noticing it as the common tongue the Earthlings used, but he couldn’t read it. He’d learned the verbal equivalent but not the written language. He tucked the note into the breast pocket of his suit before turning back to Lance. 

The boy was dressed in a black suit. The jacket tailored to his lithe form. He had a fitted vest in a blueish grey. A white dress shirt, and a vibrant blue tie. His slacks matched his suit jacket, a belt that they’d found somewhere. Keith had passed along a set of cufflinks, surprising the team. He refused to tell them where he got them or what they meant to him, but Coran smiled, sadly adding them to the ensemble. Pidge had provided Lance with a small device, something that showed the home solar system constellations, and had a series of photos imbedded in it from their adventures. Stuff that would remind Lance of his blood family as well as his space family. Hunk had provided Lance with a watch. One that seemed to hold a lot of meaning between them, the yellow Paladin misty eyed as he passed it to Coran. Allura stepped forward next handing over a compact crystal housing an ancient broadsword. It was encased but it was definitely Alfor’s sword. Coran whipped his gaze to the princess, she smiled sadly, before resting it next to him. They turned to Shiro whose brow was furrowed. He let out a shaky exhale, fingers trembling as he reached around his chain grasping at a small pendant, it was crystal clear with a small figure in the center. Shiro slipped it off, and gently pressed it into Coran’s hand, not meeting the curious gazes of the others. Coran left them at the door to the med bay, and turned back to Lance. He added the new additions, as well as a ring he wished he’d been able to give to his son before his parting. One passed on throughout the family for as long as he could remember. 

 

Lance’s death hadn't been a supernova. It had been a quiet lull, a soft song of parting. Or so Coran had thought. They’d dressed Lance in formal attire and Coran had prepared his body according to earth customs, well, as well as he could in space. He had turned his head away from Lance long enough to wipe the tears from his eyes, getting ready to call everyone in after placing all of their treasures with their friend, only to turn around to a glittering kaleidoscope of colors. Lance’s body, suit and all, had turned to crystalline dust, each shard of him reflecting an array of colors, swirling throughout the room, casting it in soft blues, warm pinks, muted yellows, curious greens, playful purple, and a fiery red. 

 

He lets out a hiccuping laugh before calling out to the Paladins at the door. 

 

“Ummm, I know that we aren’t really sure of earthling cultures or biology for that matter no matter how many time you find yourselves in the pods but… is it normal for earthlings to turn to stardust?” He asked, genuinely perplexed.

 

Upon saying that the others rushed in, pausing in the fragmented light. The glittering dust swirled around the room, like the lick of waves on a hot summer day. The lights bounced washing over the Paladins, drenching them in some sort of bioluminescent trick of the eye. Allura was bathed in a pale pink, the dust reflecting like a thousand tiny diamonds, matching the elated gasp she let out. Shiro was glowing a faint purple, or grey, or black. It depended, the dust dotted his cheeks giving him a smattering of constellations across the bridge of his nose. He fought back the giddy laugh, but it bubbled out of him. Pidge stood in a pale green the dust coating her hair, making it look like the stars found a new home in the caramel of her hair. She laughed, when she noticed that like Shiro, she too had a dusting of glittering freckles, though a bright green. Coran was dusted in orange, only adding to the majestic nature of his voluminous moustache, the dust continued to tint his normally blue and white clothing a soft tangerine. Hunk looked like the embodiment of the sun. The gold glittered against his skin, making his smile that much more blinding. He looked ethereal. Keith seemed to glow a faint red, the glow not reflecting pink, but instead of the usual blue-tinge his hair take it was alight in a glittering red. His hair looked like Dorothy’s ruby slippers, so ridiculous he felt the laugh before it registered. Only getting louder as everyone else joined in. 

 

Still bathed in the dust, the remained of it swirled in intricate patterns in the center of the room, picking up speed so much so that the fractured lights reflected like so macabre disco ball, the dust spun, faster and faster, before it burst and from the center came a flurry of daffodils. The dust doing an elaborate dance with daffodils before freezing in the air. The glittering dust and the flora remain frozen, twirling slightly as a finale through the air. The daffodils come to a gently stop, suspended as the dust had been before floating on a phantom breeze into a to a pile of glittering fragments. 

 

_ Leave it to Lance to go out with a bang. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna hurt a bit longer and I planned on ending the story on a happy note, but no God Complex got me thinking. She'll see her ideas in here when they show up. I apologize for how this series will end let me tell you it all hurts. 
> 
> Speaking of hurting leave it to me to dislocate my shoulder my first day back at practice like, excuse me body I get that your quitting on me and now no food is safe but really... Ugh... 
> 
> Murphys law.


	6. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing process continues and the Paladins are seeing their friend past his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where you should start looking into the journal entries more. It will show the transitions between the characters and their reactions as well as what is actually said.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18419588/chapters/43628861 the journal entries.
> 
> This is a short chapter the next one is going to be longer. I realized I have to split the next one into two parts because of how much is going on. So that's why this one is short. I needed a point to break it off.

 

* * *

 

The Paladins had been shocked to see the final farewell their friend had given them. The light show made of dust and daffodils had eased a bit of their pain. Not enough to dull the hurt but enough that they could all breathe again. That they could exist without their friend there to walk among them.

 

Despite being weirded out by Lance’s technical discentigration the Paladins each end up with a piece of Lance to call their own. They each had a tiny capsule with a portion of the dust inside. Coran offered to pressurize the dust into a small crystal for each of them, but they were all on the fence about it. He agreed to give them time, to allow them time for their hearts to mend.

 

“Oh, I found something,” Coran began as everyone cradled their capsule.

 

“It’s a note, that I found in Lance’s hand, I-” Coran started, hand shaking as he hastily pulled it from his pocket. He dropped the note as a mighty roar shook the castle. Allura and Keith visible reacted, bodies pulling taut, eyes glowing as their Lions saw through their eyes. A trick no one had seen before. In a voice crafted from the space between the stars they spoke out,

 

“Our child, the fallen blue warrior, has left us with a message. One we hope that on your honor as Paladins you will honor his name. He was scared in passing, but he asked us to help make it less scary, less painful. Asked us that in his absence the red paladin return to his lion in his stead, and the Princess remain in blue. That you all continue the fight of the ages. That you remember your fallen brother and do your sacred duty to protect all realities as we know them.” Allura and Keith collapsed to the floor shaking. Eyes flickering briefly before returning them to their original colors.

  
Keith managed to get out a muffled “I feel violated,” ignoring the throaty purr and elatated chuff his sentient lion let out. Allura seemed to flicker briefly again, eyes glowing, the voice still distorted and bringing a chill up everyone's spine as the beings spoke again. “Find the journal and all will be as it was.”

 

Mildly horrified the Paladins rushed over to their red and pink counterparts, propping the princess up as she shivered.

 

“That was unpleasant.” Keith grunted in agreement.

 

“What was that about?” Hunk wondered. Keith reeled back.

 

“He, oh my god. He asked me in our final call, he asked me to return to red, to be a part of voltron again. I guess he told the Lions as well,”

 

“They can do that?” Pidge asked confused.

 

“Apparently so, it seems we still have much to learn about the lions.” Allura stated in awe, then regarded Coran.

 

“Oh! Coran, what were you saying before the lions meddled?” there was a bristling roar echoing throughout the castle at the words.

 

“Ah, yes, well ummm.” He tried. “Lance left a note, but,” He sighed.

 

“I was hoping one of you would be able to help me read it seeing as my knowledge of english is still not the best, at least not the written aspect.”

 

“Sure,” Shiro said stepping forward then pausing and deferring to Hunk. Hunk was the closest to Lance on the team it was his decision. Hunk smiled in thanks before stepping beside Coran, gently taking the bunch paper from him. There across the scrap was Lance’s unique scrawl. The larger letters signifying a true capital, despite the fact that he writes in all caps.

 _T_ _HE_ _J_ _OURNAL_ _._ _P_ _LEASE_ _READ THE JOURNAL_ _._ _L_ _ET THE WITCH HUNT BEGIN. :)_

 

Hunk breathed a heavy sigh, feeling the sting of tears, the prickling and burning sensation when you run dry.

 

“He wants us to read his Journal.” Hunk said voice broken.

 

“His journal?” Keith asked, unaware of the fact Lance had been keeping one.

 

“Yeah, he also mentioned something about a witch hunt but I’m not sure what that means.”

 

“Could he have written clues in his journal?” Pidge asked, always ready for a puzzle.

 

“Maybe,” Hunk said.

 

The Paladins wandered to Lance’s room a tense silence filing the air. No one had ventured back to his room after they moved his body. No one dared to touch anything. Wanting it to remain his space, a space frozen in time. Hunk reached the side table, gently lifting the journal. The pages bent and worn, and it smelled rich with ink. Hunk smiled softly thumbing it open.

 

“To my dearest friends and family. I realize that if you’re reading this I’m probably gone. It means you got my note. Glad to know that worked. Or if it didn’t, well congratulations you’ve made it to Lancey Lance’s post-mortem surprises. Going back to the note it mentioned a witch hunt? Well crazy thing is…” The words tapered off and Hunk cringed at the scarlet slaining the page.

 

“Well, I say let the witch hunt begin. I wanted to surprise everyone because I’ve lost close family and friends before and no matter how many times it happens it never gets easier. It’s why I actually hate the smell of flowers. I had walked hand in hand with death for so long that I came to associate flowers with funerals. How’s that for morbid…” Hunk heard a laugh punched out of Pidge at that. More startled than jovial.

 

“There's several parts to my plan. First was the actually dying thing. Second was everyone reading this journal. I want everyone to think of what I taught them in life. If anything I did will stick with you forever. I think I’ll explain that more in part 4. Part 3 though, that one I’m looking forward to. Part 3 and 5 go hand in hand so I hope I successfully managed that one. Remember…” The words were stained red.

 

“Remember death isn’t always goodbye.” Shiro said softly gaze distant as he heard Lance’s words to him echoed to him in an antechamber of his mind. Recalled Lance mentioning his plan, about the cure, about death.

 

“How did you?” Hunk asked frazzled.

  
“He told me that, among other things in our conversation. He asked me to remind you all that his death isn’t a goodbye.” Keith glassy-eyed stepped forward then hesitated.

 

“Is there an order for reading the journal, like do we all read it together or…” he trailed off. Hunk hummed. He flipped through the pages and saw various titles, eyes misty as he laughed at some of them. I think it’s personal goodbyes to each of us. Though there is one addressed to all of us after each entry. It’s ummm” Hunk squints before laughing.

 

“He wrote, ‘I know your probably skimming this right now but this is only to be read after you all read you responses. The one to my family though, that ones private I want only their eyes on that one. :P’” Hunk laughed.

 

The others chuckled softly in agreement. They opted to let Hunk read first. Then whoever he found first afterwards would be the next recipient and so on and so forth.

 

So they went. Hunk passing the journal off to the Princess with puffy red eyes and a note tucked under his arm. He’d made it to the kitchen before the bulk of the tears started. The kind that sucked the energy out of him, the kind that made it feel like someone had just dropped the weight of all existence on his shoulders and he was crumbling under the pressure. With shaking hands and hiccuping sobs his hand brushed Lance’s recipes. Hunk baked through the tears, the heat of the oven on the cooling streaks of moisture staining his face was welcome. Pidge had wandered in at the scent of food, eyes widening as she took in the impressive spread of food. Enough to feed the entire Galra Empire.

 

She didn't dare ask what he’d read, what his best friend had said to make the yellow paladin look the way he did. Pidge glanced at her friend at how gaunt and hollow he seemed. A mere shell of the ray of sunshine he usually was. Was opening her mouth to say something when the food goo dispenser started making a low whirring sound. They cast weary gazes to it recalling the food goo incident that seemed ages ago, anxiety kicking in as the pressure in the hose built up.

 

They let out a screech when the dispenser flung goo at them, neither prepared, staring in shock at the machine. It squirted Pidge’s glasses and Hunks bandana and they could have sworn the heard an echo of Lance’s laughter in the air as it calmed down and the watch, his chains, and the projection device sat innocently in a ring of goo. Trying to find humor in the thing of nightmares Pidge breathed _crop circle_ , then screamed when the food goo shot her in the stomach. Grunting she looked at the green staining her sweatshirt cursing the machine. Trying to ignore the building laugh echoing around them.

 

The Princess and Coran found them huddled in the Kitchen, goo everywhere, Lance’s favorite foods piled high on the counter. Hunk crying as Pidge force fed him a garlic knot. Coran, misty eyed thumbed the ring on his finger, watching the Princess closely. She’d shut down even more after reading the entry. He knew Lance would never say anything to hurt the Princess especially if he loved her. He guessed that it had been not to worry or to blame herself. But thats how Allura grieves. Losing herself in the what if’s, the what could have beens. They’d mentioned that Keith had the journal, and waited in tense silence, munching solemnly on the excess food Hunk had baked. Keith came in. Eyes puffy and red, face stained with tears, his posture slumped. He looked heart broken. Like whatever he had read had been the metaphorical straw. He dissolved into sobs, grabbing a few garlic knots before sprinting from the room. Hunk made to go after him, but Coran held his hand out and shook his head.

 

“It would be best if he has time to process it.” Knowing full well they’d likely find that Keith had trained until he passed out. Until he hit the state of exhaustion that steals all dreams.

 

They passed the Journal over to Pidge who cradled it gently. She lingered, looking uncertain and like the child she was. She closed her eyes and breathed hard turning to walk to her room to read. Knowing that only Shiro was left. Eyeing the pages she smiled softly when she found hers, a heaviness in her heart.

 

Keith had made his way to the training room, watching as Shiro knocked the bot around, releasing his own frustration on the tech. Keith hesitantly called the sequence off before reaching out to Shiro who pulled him into a sweaty hug. Both breaking down into a new set of sobs, toppling to the ground in their grief. They sat and cried, barely voicing their thoughts, but appreciating the company. They’d been quiet, enjoying the sorrow filled peace, jolting all of a sudden when the Gladiator jerked back to life. His voice distorted sounding suspiciously like their fallen blue friend. The gladiator looked like a broken doll, limbs hanging awkwardly as the electric current whizzed through it. The creature's arms jerked, its spine clicking to semi-straight, as its arms slowly framed its face. Each arm a horizontal bar above and below, fingers snapping at odd angles as the bot rasped with Lance’s voice, “Razzle Dazzle, Bitches.”

 

Blood curdling screams echoed throughout the castle, Shiro and Keith making it to the kitchen in god speed, doubled over, skin ashen, pale as ghosts.

 

“This castle is haunted Coran.” Keith yelled. Gesturing madly as he panted for breath. Freezing when he noticed his father’s cuff links sitting in a neat circle of food goo alongside SHiro’s pendant.

 

“OH MY GOD PIDGE!!!” Keith yelled startling the group, jumping when the green Paladin emerged from where she’d been lingering at the doorway, sniffling and hastily rubbing at her eyes.

 

“Aliens are real.” he breathed in awe. To which everyone groaned, because Keith often forgot he was an alien. Hell they were all aliens to the coalition.

 

“Galra Keith is better than human Keith,” Hunk deadpanned. Shiro just pinched the bridge of his nose willing the stress headache away. Why him? What made him a qualified adult? Why did he have to be the leader? They heard heavy foot falls, slow and stumbling, and strangely metallic before Shiro screamed, Coran and Hunk echoing it, ignoring the cheers from Pidge, as Keith flung his knife in the direction of the sound, not missing the _thwack_ sound of it finding its target, the faint sizzling and the distorted “What the hell mullet,”

 

“This is not happening.” Hunk moaned, hands scrabbling at the floor below him as the bot stumbled closer.

 

The electricity fizzled out and the bot toppled to the ground in the doorway. Leaving the paladins staring in horror.

Pidge pressed the journal into Shiro’s palms, watching his expression change, but inching towards the neglected, rogue training bot. The Black Paladin wandered to his room, journal in hand to read his final farewell.

 

* * *

 

The paladins spent days working to cope. Hunk had been neglecting to eat, only mass producing his best friend’s favorite foods. He chose to wallow in self pity at his loos, internalizing it and hating the natural order of things. He’d been forced into a healing pod when he’d collapsed while in the Kitchen, and since then has been put on a strict schedule by Coran so that they all can rest better know he’s eaten. The Green Paladin had locked herself away, hyper fixating on the current state of the castle and why it was glitching with Lance’s voice. She’d been extra snappy lately, cursing the princess out for taking her away from her research. The Red Paladin was barely present. He was so far overcome with grief that he only left his bed when forced to. He’d come to terms with many things in his friends passing. Realizations that came a tad too late. The Black Paladin wore masks. Changed his mask to suit the environment, showing a strong leader on the outside, but he was slowly losing the will to continue on. He’d seen so much avoidable death, but no matter what it always seemed to play out that way. He could never pull them back once they were gone. His dreams haunted with a childhood giddiness, the sounds of wet ragged breathing, the sounds of silent death. The Pink Paladin slouched more with each passing day. Gone was the regal self-assured princess that they’d come to know. In her place, they’d found a silent statu. A fragile creature who cracked under the faults that had been laid bare. Even Coran wasn’t himself. He internalized the passing, the events pulling long repressed emotions of losing his son, his wife, his family, his friends, his culture. His usual vibrancy hiding, his features dulled, looking withered with age.

 

“I think we should read his final entry to us all,” Coran suggests at one of the meals, noticing the lack of energy, how withdrawn everyone was.

 

“Yeah you should all read my journal,” Lance said, startling the team. In the doorway, stood Lance, their friend, their brother. Hunk vaulted the table making to hug their friend, but he caught air and in the place he stood there was nothing but empty space.

 

“Lance,” He blubbered, the rest of the team breaking down as well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just want you to know how much this hurt me to write. I've been told by god-complex that I have no soul and I'm starting to think that she's right. She's also kink shaming me atm. Thanks appreciate you too.


End file.
